All Because of A Mistake George's POV
by chocolate-frog-fan
Summary: George finally starts coping with the death of his twin when adult life takes it's toll. Will he find hope from an unlikely source once again? Luna's POV: User - Annabeth Black
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone :D This is a new George/Luna Fanfic, partly based on the plot of a roleplay I go on. The idea of the fic is by my friend Taylor - **Annabeth Black** - in 3rd Person Luna's point of view, so please give it a read, because it's very good. This story is rated T for later events, and Taylor has swearing in her's. I hope you enjoy, and please review this one, and read and review Taylor's :D As always, all characters belong to **JK Rowling.**

Luna's POV chapter 1: .net/s/7847450/1/All_Because_of_A_Mistake

I just want to say thanks to Alice, Kira, Heath, Gemma, Phoebe and all the other people on the roleplay, who have been part of these plots, and a huge thanks to **Taylor** :D

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><p>George scowled, acknowledging the fact Luna was sitting a couple of meters away from him in the kitchen. He had nothing against her in particular, but another person meant another person offering their stupid 'support' trying to comfort him and lying that everything would be ok.<p>

He snorted darkly, eyeing Luna with the hatred that filled him up whenever he looked at another survivor of the battle.

Another survivor that wasn't his twin, one that could've easily been in that explosion instead of Fred.

Seconds later, he felt sick with himself... Luna wasn't a bad person, and nobody had to die...

So why did Fred have to?

George snarled again, allowing Luna to recognise his presence, her long blonde hair tangled and a little greasy, and her eyes with the same hollow look he saw in his own when he braved to stare into a mirror.

Mrs Weasley had mentioned something about Luna's father in a vague warning tone he hadn't listened to, but George really couldn't care less.

Maybe that was selfish, it probably was, but he really didn't want to have to talk to Luna and her weird beliefs about nargles and goodness knows what ever again.

But if her father had died, why didn't she seem to care all too much... Her eyes looked sad, but the expression Luna wore was practically cheerful, considering everything.

The words had barely been in his head before George said them, but they felt good...

Like some kind of bitter pleasure, but hours earlier his mother had insisted if he found anyway to cheer himself up to go about it without question.

And maybe being like this to Luna numbed the pain a little.

He allowed himself to continue, Luna making stupid responses about how either Fred or old Xenophilius were really gone.

But Luna had some kind of weird... power about her. She was trying to coax everything out of George, and almost managed; something than unnerved him more than anything. He blinked back tears of sadness and fury. If he hadn't cried in front of his family, he wasn't breaking down on Luna Lovegood's shoulder.

'He's okay. Fred's okay.'

That was enough... and George picked anger over tears.

He started yelling at Luna.

Luna and her stupid beliefs that Fred was okay, and George would be okay, how could he trust someone that went on about made up rubbish all the time?

Fred was DEAD, how did the girl not see that? All the balled up anger and stress he had been holding in since the death of his twin was escaping out...

He yelled at Luna, amazed at the fact his brain could convert it all into words so fast, whilst she tried to calm him down.

He was probably freaking everyone out, screaming and yelling as hard as possible, but it didn't bug him.

George didn't care anymore, he couldn't and wouldn't.

George blinked... was Luna glaring at him?

He didn't know Luna Lovegood could glare...

He slumped into a chair, staring at the tiles on the floor as they went fuzzy from the tears filling his eyes.

As he squeezed them tightly, Luna took his hand, but he snatched it away. It felt weird... wrong... after the few days in which he had received nothing but hugs, George didn't want another human hand on him, hands clinging to Fred's identical body, not George's own.

Luna glanced up at him and took his hand again, George weakening and allowing her this time... She knew his twin, but a lot less.

Maybe an outsider was good, and there was something about her which gave him the impression she was a lot wiser than he had perceived.

A shudder ran through his body as he took a deep breath and looked at her eyes, the first eyes he'd seen for a long while that didn't look a thing like Fred's.

Something in him trusted those eyes...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2, hope you like it, and please read and review not only this, but Taylor's too :D Luna's POV Chapter 2: .net/s/7847450/2/All_Because_of_A_Mistake

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><p>'GET LOST PERCY, YOU STUPID PRAT. YOU IDIOT,' George yelled, somehow finding the energy to chuck everything within reach at his older brother, who just sat there staring at George.<p>

'EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT. YOU'VE MESSED UP THIS FAMILY AGAIN, I'M SICK OF YOU,' he screamed, ignoring the strong hands of Ron and Bill trying to pull him back, attempting to snatch away the plates he was lobbing at his brother.

It has been Percy's fault. He was there in the explosion... And if he'd died they wouldn't have been in this mess... They'd still have Fred.

'WHY DIDN'T YOU DIE INSTEAD?'

Every single Weasley in the house gasped as George reached out for another plate, holding it in front of him like a shield for anything Percy tried to do or say to him.

'George...' Charlie began in a warning tone, the kind that hadn't been used on him since he was very small. 'Leave him alone.'

'NO,' George screamed, lobbing another plate at Percy, who was surrounded with a mass of shards of china that George had been throwing for the past while. Charlie leapt in front of Percy the second the next plate left George's hand.

'OUCH. GEORGE.'

The next thing anyone registered was Charlie's bleeding nose, as he gave George a look he couldn't read; either in his rage, or because it looked like some kind of warped mix of fear, pity and anger. Mrs Weasley slumped into a chair next to Charlie, who was holding his nose to try and prevent the steady flow of blood. Mr Weasley looked torn between restraining George, helping Charlie and putting a shaking arm around his wife.

'I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO KILL HIM,' Percy's whole body seemed to be bright red with rage, as he yelled back for the first time... He could put up with a couple of the plates, but it was getting out of order. George was ripping the family apart more than anyone could imagine.

George screamed back, picking up another plate, his hands shaking slightly.

'IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT... Luna?' He'd sent one of the last plates flying at his brother, but has missed due to the shock of another arrival in the room. Luna. He should have expected it; they'd called Luna to come and calm George the last six or seven times George had been like this – always at Percy, but every time his blind rage seemed to forget about her. Nobody heard the last word he said as the plate shattered, sending a large, sharp chunk of the sky-blue china into the girl's face.

George swallowed as the room turned to stare between him and Luna... She was their – his – last hope and he'd just chucked a plate right at her.

'George, put the plates down and apologise to your brother.'

'Luna, I'm so sorry,' George stared at the blood flooding from her face as he dropped a couple more plates, disgusted, ashamed with himself... When George finally thought he was improving his rages slightly... She would be sure to hate him now, to never help him again...

But that had shocked him... He'd definitely not meant to send that plate at Luna; Luna who was incredibly patient, who actually listened to him and helped him. However, sending the plates at Percy was completely intentional. He would know he deserved it if he saw the pain George himself was going through.

Mrs Weasley started to fuss over Luna like she always would whenever Luna came. She needed Luna to keep George calm, but felt in Luna's debt, despite her protests she was doing it as a friend. George didn't want to apologise to Percy, but Luna needed him to if she could calm him down. Trusting her motives like he did no-one else's, he scowled.

'I'm sorry Percy,' he muttered, looking away. When Luna arrived, George usually stopped yelling, returning to a sullen, moody person instead. George looked around the room at his family; the people whose lives had been so messed up since the battle. His parents looked tired out, and they must have been, allowing George to be this way to a fellow family member. He felt a pang of jealousy seeing Luna now tending to Charlie's nose. She was meant to calm him down, not wipe blood off his other brothers, but a pair of strong hands whisked him away before he could open his mouth to say anything.

'George, you complete... idiot,' Bill sighed, half dragging his little brother up the stairs. George couldn't stop staring at Luna though... He'd made her bleed, she looked terrible. Not answering his brother, he dug into a pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, still embroidered with the initials Molly had put on there many years ago.

'Give it to Luna,' George said quietly, prodding Ron in the back. His younger brother whipped round and gave George a surveying look for a second; looking as though he wanted to ask how the man had calmed so quickly. Silently, he took the cloth and disappeared back downstairs with it.

Bill led George up to his room silently, none of the other Weasleys having been in there since the battle, except for Charlie a couple of times. It was an understatement to say it was a mess. Books, clothes, the food George was meant to eat, everywhere. Bill wrinkled his nose and took George in, his hand firmly, but gently on the latter's arm.

George kicked his shoes off and drove his arm across the desk in one last rage, wiping everything off the surface and onto the floor, before half-falling onto his bed face down.  
>He couldn't cope with it anymore, losing it at Percy every other day physically drained him, especially due to the fact he was only eating enough to keep the dizzy spells from taking over. Bill hovered by the bed for a second until the sound of Ron's return and him slumping against the door came.<p>

'George,' he said quietly, 'I don't understand why you're doing this. We all miss Fred,' George snorted angrily as Bill said the name, 'but you need to stop it... It's not doing any good to Percy.'  
>He stopped for a second, considering what to say in the one sided conversation.<p>

George closed his eyes tightly as he felt them well up with tears. He couldn't remember if Bill had seen him crying, or even what day it was. Everything seemed to blur together, except when Luna visited; he could remember those visits well, for some reason. Tears leaked down his cheeks and onto the already damp pillowcase.

'George?'  
>A quiet voice came from outside, and he felt Bill shift slightly on the bed as the door creaked open. George whispered her name into his pillowcase as a response, but lay still, except for the involuntary shudders that ran through him occasionally. Bill continued to whisper as Luna crept around the room, George following not his words, but her footsteps. They were light and almost inaudible, not like those of an angry person. Maybe she was ok with the plate incident; it had been an accident, after all.<p>

'George?' She asked again. He jumped slightly at the closeness of her voice this time, but didn't answer. 'George? Do you want me to go away?' He still wasn't ready to speak, but shook his head, mouth full of pillow he had been biting so as not to talk to Bill.  
>'What about me? Do you want me to go?'<br>Bill's voice; George nodded slightly, a tiny twinge of guilt. But he was never much help, especially compared to Luna.

George heard his eldest brother leaving the room before rolling over, curious to see the damage he'd done to Luna, despite the fact he knew he looked so much of a mess.  
>'Luna, I'm sorry...' he muttered, frowning as he looked at her cut. Why did that plate have to leave his hand?<br>She muttered some kind of acceptance and reached out her hand. George was ready to flinch again, like he usually did when anyone tried to comfort him like that, but Luna's hand was small and warm. It gave him a sense of security to see she wouldn't change. Slowly, she stroked George's hair as his eyes drooped slightly. Mrs Weasley used to do it when either of the twins was ill, or couldn't sleep, many, many years ago. It was comforting, and he knew Luna wouldn't yell, or call him an idiot, or throw stuff at him.

'Luna...'

'Yes George?'

He yawned slightly as he responded, realising quite how much these rages drained him. 'I'm sorry,' his eyes welled up again, but Luna had already seen him cry, and crying in front of her was different than crying in front of anyone else. An idea snuck into his head as Luna continued to comfort and calm him. He needed someone to stay with him through the nightmares that were now a common part of sleeping.

'Will you stay with me tonight? Please?'

His eyes lit slightly as she nodded and left to the bathroom. George sat up, turning the damp pillow over to make his bed more comfortable for him and Luna.

'Lay back down,' Luna ordered gently, conjuring a chair and laying her wand down beside George's on the nightstand, but George shook his head slightly. Luna couldn't sleep in that chair.  
>'Luna, lay with me?' He asked, not even faking the desperation it came out with. She gave in and got rid of the chair, sliding her boots off as he moved over slightly under the covers to make room for her. One month ago, this would've been the height of shame, being so upset the only way to calm down was to have Luna Lovegood rock you to sleep, and if George had died instead of Fred, he would never do it, but that didn't really matter. He felt warm, and for the first time, content, pressed up to Luna under the blankets.<br>'Night Luna,' he yawned, making sure he kept hold of her as his eyes slid shut into the depths of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

George woke up early, proper early. Despite the fact his sleeping pattern had been severely messed up since the battle, he knew this wasn't just a random awakening, the noise had woken him. If he was in any fit state, George would've been downstairs in an instant, but he couldn't muster the willpower, staying lay down in his awkward position on the bed, which probably meant he had been kicking in his sleep again. The someone downstairs moved around in the kitchen, not nosily with a lot of clattering as Ron and Charlie were, but with just the occasional bang of a pan. An intentional cooking kind of sound. It had to be Luna, only she or Mrs Weasley would get up at this time, and Molly barely had the will to cook at proper mealtimes.

Racking his brains, George sat bolt upright as he remembered. It was Luna's father's funeral today, and she would be out all day. George sighed and lay back down; old Xeno's funeral meant Fred's was soon. Tomorrow, and by the look of things and the strength of the headache he'd woken up with, George needed Luna badly. But today was Luna's. He'd manage without her, somehow. The smell of cooking food, cakes probably, started to drift through the house. George clutched his stomach and closed his sore eyes, goodness knows how long he'd been staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't eaten properly in days, something which just worried his mother more, but he couldn't stomach the thought of food at the best of times, so it would usually result to the usual plan: get Luna to help. Hearing the door shut quietly, George shut his eyes again, allowing restless sleep to take over once more.

When he awoke again, more light was filtering into the room through the semi-closed curtains, but that wasn't the reason George had woken. His eyes opened slowly, the ceiling looking a lot higher that It had done in the night, and what felt like a swollen patch on the back of his head.

'Wha-?' He mumbled, attempting to sit up. It was the same cycle every time, the recurring nightmares, kicking and yelling in his sleep, and waking up on the floor. It was only then that George realised he was being watched; Charlie was crouched on the floor, face close to George's.

'George, you ok?'

He was wearing a white suit, and his breath smelt of toothpaste covering the considerably stronger smell of bacon, meaning it must be about mid-morning. George grunted slightly, rubbing his wet eyes and realising he must have been crying.

'You take care of yourself mate,' Charlie attempted a weak smile as he stood up and pulled George up. 'I'm gonna be with Luna, it's her father's, you know...'

George nodded, neither wanting to say the other 'F' word that wasn't Fred's name. He patted George on the shoulder, sighing slightly as he turned and left. George stared at the door for several minutes before following Charlie's footsteps downstairs.

'George?'

Mr Weasley was at the bottom of the stairs, as though waiting for his son's arrival. George nodded, looking around the room awkwardly in his orange and white pyjamas as Molly walked in holding a frying pan containing eggs and bacon. Arthur patted George on the shoulder as Charlie had done, and nudged him forwards towards Mrs Weasley.

She looked him up and down for a minute, George, and her too apparently, hadn't noticed how much weight he had lost from eating practically nothing. But now he stood in the bright living room in the nightclothes he had thrown on the previous night, it was quite visible.

'Food George,' she said firmly but kindly as she pushed him into a chair and loaded the food onto a plate she had conjured.

'No.'

It was the first word he'd spoken to his parents for a while, most of what George said was to Luna, and even then it was minimal. She frowned and speared a piece of egg on a fork, handing it to George.

'I can't,' George mumbled, dropping the fork so it clattered nosily in the quiet room. 'Where is everyone anyway?'

'They're at Luna's,' said Arthur, making a noise that sounded between a yawn and a sigh, 'but don't change the subject Fred.'

He gasped and covered his mouth as Gorge stood up like a shot at the name.

'You what?'

Arthur swallowed. 'I – I'm so sorry George.'

But George wasn't listening , and neither was Molly; for at that moment, George had picked up the plate and thrown it at the wall as he had the day he was fighting Percy.

'Fre- George, stop that,' Molly scolded, but stopping as she realised the second slip of the tongue in horror. This had infuriated George to his limit.

'I AM NOT FRED,' he screamed as his mother dissolved into tears again. George's own vision became watery as he blinked furiously to rid of the tears, 'FRED'S Fred's...' Neither parent knew what was going to happen next as George tried to storm to his father. The lack of food and proper sleep had got to him, and a dizzy spell reached him before he reached Arthur.

'GEORGE!'

Molly screamed as his nose made contact with the wall at full speed. Little dark red dots appeared before his eyes and George blinked rapily again to get rid of them, before realising they were his own flecks of blood on the pale wall. A sharp pain ran through his nose, and by the feel of the awkward position the bone was in, it had broken. He allowed the tears and blood to stream down his face as he turned around slowly to face his parents.

'Georgie?'

He was sick of it, sick of being Fred. Or being George without Fred.

'I'm going,' he scowled, storming over to the fireplace as best as he could and jamming his bloody hand into the pot of floo powder, moving oddly to dodge his parents clutches and concerned, yet fearful words.

'What? No, where?'

'Luna's,' he replied, not looking at either of them as he climbed into the fireplace, wincing with the pain of his nose as he held his pyjama sleeve against it to stop the steady flow of blood. Luna would surely be busy with the funeral guests, but maybe he could hide in her house or even stay there for a while. Swallowing a large amount of blood that had made its way into his mouth, George chucked the floo powder around him and muttered the name of Luna's house.

_Swoosh_

George stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing as he looked at the back of Luna's head; she hadn't responded to his presence, except jumping ever so slightly at the floo sound.

'Luna?'

She didn't respond, her head and back still the only part of her visible to him. Maybe she needed leaving alone, after all, she was mourning too. But then George wanted to help, despite the mess he was in himself. Luna had done so much, and if she was upset he could return it, even if he was dripping blood all over her floor at this moment in time.

'Luna!'

He was getting desperate now, sleeve still against his nose, and wand goodness knows where.

'Please Luna?' he spluttered slightly from the blood as tears started to wash some away with their own tracks. Even he could hear the urgency in his voice this time.

'Yes George?'

A tiny flame of hope flickered in George as he staggered around the table to face her. She stayed still for a second, surveying him. It took only a moment before George realise he must've looked a big mess. His eyes most likely red and puffy from crying, face grubby with blood and tears and pyjamas covered in more blood. He was standing in Luna Lovegood's house. Bleeding. In his pyjamas.

'Luna...' he mumbled, letting go of his nose and throwing his arms around, not bothering to prevent the sobbing as he clung on to virtually the only thing left that he hadn't hurt, or had hurt him.

'Oh George,' she whispered into his ear-hole, his head on her shoulder, 'what've you done to yourself?' she asked, drying the man's eyes with the handkerchief he had once lent her. George opened his mouth wider, allowing Luna to mop him up as he tried to piece the words together.

'Dad – called Fred – Mum – wall.'

Apparently this was enough, though George was sure the words had been almost inaudible between the shaky breaths and sobs. But Luna had raised her wand already, and was pointing it at his nose.

'Episkey!'

'Ow,' George muttered, clutching his nose after getting a slight shock from the tingling feeling the spell had given him, but Luna quickly prised his hands away and carried on wiping the blood gently.

'Everything is going to be ok, George,' she said gently. The adult part of George wanted to snort and roll his eyes; he was never going to be ok, he had to live like this for the rest of his life, however short that would be. But instinct and gratefulness for Luna allowed him to falsely believe her as he rested his head on her shoulder once again as she rocked him as though he was a child, humming a tune that was only the kind of thing Luna Lovegood would know. She stroked his hair as usual too, which always managed to calm George a great amount if he allowed her to touch his head without flinching away.

'George, I need to go back outside for an hour. Do you want me to take you home?'

This made George jump slightly as Luna shifted into direct view. He didn't want to hear the words 'want' and 'home' in the same sentence right now, so shook his head, hoping she understood.

'Do you want to stay in here until I'm done?'

George shook his head again, a slight plan coming in his head. Despite the state he'd been in minutes ago, he would help Luna with every ounce of energy he had left.

'The only other option is that you come outside with me...'

George studied her face, she didn't seem to mind the idea, just looked a little surprised at George's refusal to the last suggestion.

'Can I?' He whispered, hoping he could do something to take his mind off everything.

Luna looked surprised, but happy at this.

'Of course you can. Let's clean you up first.'

George stood up and watched as Luna transfigured his bloody pyjamas into a clean white suit with an orange tie... He couldn't help admiring the magic slightly as she made her way back outside and sent him upstairs to wash his face.

George had never been in the Lovegood house before, and it certainly was an unusual place. Each room was beautiful, as far as rooms went, and was unique. The bathroom was a blue room with a large window, facing the countryside with the sea in the distance, but the blue paint and the abundance of shells probably from Shell Cottage itself made it feel like the beach was a lot closer. Looking into the large starfish shaped mirror, George quickly rinsed the blood of his face, combing his hair madly with his fingers to look presentable to numerous people outside. He couldn't be long, but couldn't help admiring the hand that had to be Luna's that had painted the blue room with sea creatures on one wall, ships on another. He was on the verge of sniffing each block of sparkly green soap when he remembered Luna needed him.

'Hey,' George whispered, slipping an arm around Luna to hold her hand and smiling at the fairly batty looking woman who stood in front of the pair.

'Do you read the Quibbler my dear?' She asked, oblivious to who George was, and what his situation was. But he kind of liked that, it was distracting.

'Yes I do. I am most interested in the developments for the search of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.' Lies literally spewed out of George's mouth before he had a chance to think, and whilst dreading the fact he sounded remarkably like Percy, he could've sworn he saw a tiny glint of happiness in Luna's eyes at that blatant lie. The woman waffled on whilst George stared at a point over her shoulder, nodding in fake interest when she stopped to breathe. Hopefully his presence eased things for Luna a little, but before he could get a private word with her, Harry sneaked into the conversation and pulled out Luna for a private word.

A 'private word', thought George, mentally scowling at the boy who lived. That meant asking Luna about him, obviously. His twin had died, and he was breaking down every three seconds, but he wasn't stupid and it was getting tedious being expected to ignore this thing like a three year old, but Harry dragged George along with them to another part of the field with Ron and Hermione. Luna smiled at them all, thanking them for support whilst George found another point in the distance to stare at, jumping at the mention of his name.

'George, you need to eat something or at least have a drink.'

George frowned, trying not to think about what had happened the last time he was made to eat, but Luna wouldn't give up, and she had helped him a lot.

'Please George? For me?' Luna asked, squeezing his hand. George looked at her and put on a scowl, still reluctant, but agreed and walked over to get a drink.

George walked over to the tables, veering towards Charlie, who was staring at his brother in slight disbelief. He must've heard about the events earlier, somehow.

'Drink, George?' he asked, smiling slightly at his little brothers efforts to drinks and eat. 'But not alcohol...'

George shrugged and took a glass of some kind of fruit juice, something unusual, knowing Luna's taste. People milled around chatting, pointing at Luna and making large hand gestures. Would George be pointed at tomorrow? It would probably be worse, the Weasleys had a huge network of friends and family, and he would be centre. It made sense that Luna wanted to get away.

'Hello!'

A face appeared in front of George, and he looked down slightly to make eye contact. A young woman, older than George, stood in front of him, firewhiskey in her hand and a grin on her face.

'Hi...'

'I know you,' she continued to grin, taking George's hand and shaking it vigorously, 'you're Fred Weasley, right? Hi Fred!'

George dropped the glass on the grass, his face unreadable for a second before pouncing at the woman, who dropped her own glass and backed away screaming.

'I'M NOT FRED,' Charlie practically leaped over the table and grabbed the tops of George's arms, his strong arms holding him back, 'HOW COULD I BE? HE'S – he's – he's,' the tears spurted out of George's eyes again as people turned to stared at the screaming man, some not even resisting the urge to point and gasp. 'I'M NOT! I CAN'T BE! DEAD!' Luna and the others came sprinting over as George stopped saying words and started screaming instead. Charlie and Luna managed to drag him away with their strength combined, but everything was spinning, and George needed to lie down...  
>Luna grabbed his head and forced him to look at her, but he turned away. A new kind of strength coming out with the anger as he thrashed madly. By the third try, George was tired, and her hand was place directly on his ear-hole, which hurt like hell right now. His eyes flicked away, unable to look at Luna in this state. The woman was being comforted by a couple more batty old ladies who all kept looking up nervously like he was some kind of mass murderer.<p>

'George. George! Look – no- no – look – look – look at me. Look at me George. Come on, look at me. In the eyes. That's it. Good boy. Yes. Okay. Now breathe. _Breathe._ Come on, that's it. Deep breaths. In... and out. In... and out. In – yes, well done. Come on. Calm down. She's sorry. She didn't know, okay? She didn't know.'

George blinked and obeyed Luna, not wanting to embarrass her in front of everyone although it was a little late, but the mention of the woman scared him again. What if everybody thought that? How many more times would it have to happen?

'No, NO,' she yelled, not seeming to notice everyone was watching, and the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Fleur were watching, looking just as scared as the old ladies, if not more.

'No! Breathe! Ignore the others. Ignore them. Come on. Look at me – not at them. Me. Breathe.'

But everyone was watching, and why couldn't they leave him alone? For once? And the woman was staring at him like he was an animal. And everything was going blurry. And Luna looked funny, but George couldn't listen to her.

'GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY, CALM THE HELL DOWN RIGHT NOW.'

He blinked and practically jumped out of his skin as Luna shouted at him, but his eyes were leaking, and everything was spinning, and he wanted to close his eyes and for it to be over.

'She- she- called me. Dad – same. Fr- gone.' He gasped, trying hard to speak.

'I know, I know,' Luna breathed, her voice comforting again as she stroked the hair from George's eyes, but everything was weird, and he felt sick. And the blurring wasn't stopping... And then it all went black.


	4. Chapter 4

Please read and review :) Luna's POV:

.net/s/7847450/4/

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><p>George lay in bed, his body hot and cold all at once, coated in sweat whilst family members and Luna watched him non-stop, panicking madly if his temperature went up by half a degree, or the sweating became worse. Not that he knew. Completely out of it, and had been for hours. He had had a vague, half memory of having potion tipped down his throat by someone in an apron, whilst another someone stroked the hair off his forehead, but nothing more than that could he remember, lying in dreamless sleep... but not for long. The potion could work its magic, sending him into a dreamless state in which he didn't have to think, or feel, or care, but the state his mind was in meant it couldn't last for long at all. And as the dreams crept back upon him, they were vivid nightmares, more so than anything he'd ever known.<p>

'Crucio!'

'STOP, STOP.' George screamed, flinching and trying to dodge the spell as Bellatrix Lestrange cackled madly. They had Fred too, George could tell from the identical screaming next to him.

'Potter's as good as dead, Weasley, and your twin too, so shut up and give us the mudblood's whereabouts

'I DON'T KNOW, STOP IT, STOP IT,' George screamed, thrashing madly at the spells aimed at him as he heard his twin being identically tortured.

'I'll stop it,' smirked Lestrange, 'for you that is,' and she pointed her wand at Fred, right in the chest, 'CRUCIO!'

'FRED! FRED! NO! FRED!' He screamed, breaking away from the loose ropes that surrounded him as his twin screamed and writhed with pain on the stone floor. George felt his shirt being ripped off by a death eaters, as though they assumed the clothing would dilute the strength of Lestrange's curses. He felt the hands touch him as Bellatrix fired the curse again, voices erupting around his throbbing head. For a split second, George could've sworn a voice had been talking to him, calling out, but Bellatrix stopped that, firing a Sectumsempra at George's already painful chest.

'MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP,' he screamed as Lestrange turned away. He couldn't take it anymore, he really couldn't. Flailing madly, George felt himself hit flesh, before more voices with faces he couldn't see appeared, clogging up the dream. Bellatrix danced around, Fred pinned against the wall, but left untouched by spells anymore, just made to watch his twins as Bellatrix giggled, her dark eyes displaying love for torture rather than hate for George. He was screaming madly now, praying he'd black out; collapse; die. But death eaters were pinning him down, and he was burning all over. One put an ice cold hand on his chest, and it burned and froze at the same time all over again.

'FRED! Fred, MAKE IT STOP!'

Fred said nothing, but a faraway voice spoke, saying his name and other words. George tried to keep his mind. It was a woman. She had said his name three times, but twice Georgie, not George. Though the pain continued, he stopped screaming, wanting the voice to become a person to get him out.

'That's it. I'm here George. I've got you.'

He breathed out shakily... Maybe she was right. But who's were the hands that held him, stroking back hid hair?

'Mum?' He whispered, eyes taking away the battle scene. He seemed to be in his bedroom, but everything was oddly distorted, and she didn't sound look like his mother...

'No George, it's Luna. Remember?'

Luna? Why Luna? What could she do? Why was Luna Lovegood in his house anyway? He'd only spoken to her about twice in his life. He wanted Molly... Molly and her potions, and books about how to make it better.

'MUM! I want Mum! Mum!' He screamed, eyes falling shut as he madly tried to keep them open to see his mother, but he could only hear her strangled sobs. What was wrong? Was she hurt too? He kicked and flinched a little more, ignoring the faint crying that surely didn't belong in his own freakish nightmares, but as he carried on screaming, the battle faded, Bellatrix's laughing ceasing and the fuzzy bedroom scene staying...

Luna? Where was Luna? He couldn't find the energy to call out for he, but let the moans slip out of his mouth before allowing his eyes to droop, praying Luna was close. Sleep was returning, the pain dying down as George started to wearily question how much was real. Someone planted a kiss on his forehead. Not his mother. A woman though. Possibly even Luna, and her healing and calming powers, but what had taken her so long? She was here now though, If it was Luna, holding his hand. He sighed, letting sleep return again on the promise Luna was there, making sure he didn't return to the nightmares again.


	5. Chapter 5

George continued to sleep through the night, drifting in and out of sleep, sometimes becoming conscious enough to register the fact he was safe in bed, with Luna holding his hand: something which kept the nightmares at bay.

Fred was in his dreams, and Luna too. And his family, including Percy. It was dreams like these that made George never want to leave the dream, but some unlucky person had to drag him back to reality, and suffer the consequences. Usually him being in an extremely bad mood for a while. But George never had been a morning person.

He was walking through a meadow with Luna, Fred and the family. Luna had his hand in hers, something that only happened exactly as George wanted in his dreams. And Fred was on his other side, laughing and joking as Percy moaned on and on about something at the ministry. Beams of sunlight hit his face, and the laughter ringed in his ear.

Not that anyone knew, but George found it weird the amount his dreams could vary. One moment Bellatrix was torturing him, and the next he was laughing with his twin again. For some reason, Luna often appeared in the latter, and in the dreams her presence elated George more. But she could never know that.

Her hand pulled away from his as they continued through the field, not going anywhere in particular. For a second, George moaned, and reached out to her, trying to pull her back into his dream as she started to fade, but Fred grinned and pulled him onwards, George unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face in the dream.

'Georgie... Oh my Georgie...'

'Mum?'

George turned slightly in his sleep, trying to work out where and why his mother's voice was speaking to him like that. She was in the meadow, with the family. But It was fading at her voice, and he didn't like this.

'No... stop it.'

He curled up tighter as Mrs Weasley started to sob. A small part of George's mind knew the meadow was only a figment of his sub-conscious mind, but he couldn't bear to leave it. He sleepily pulled the duvet over his head to block out the sound of real life. And it must have worked a little, because her voice died down and George drifted back into the field with Fred, where obviously had no meaning, because the sun was setting.

'It's raining, George,' Fred grinned, looking up at the sky.

'No it's not,' George laughed, also looking up and seeing it was a watery-ink blue colour.

In reality, George had never been to the meadow. But it was in his dreams most nights, somehow giving him the sense of security whenever he was 'in' it, because none of the tormenting nightmares happened in the breezy, open space.

'You can hear it though...' Fred said, putting a hand behind his right ear as if cupping it would make the sound clear. George mimicked his actions and sure enough, could hear the sound of pouring rain not too far away. But the meadow seemed perfectly dry.

George blinked as Luna suddenly ran round the front of him, smiling dreamily as she wiped the hair from his eyes. It was always doing that. Quite annoying, really.

'George.'

Uh oh. That voice did not match the dreamy Luna that only spoke occasionally when he and Fred were around. George wanted to curl up more and force both Luna's away if it meant he got more time with Fred.

'Georgie, you have to wake up now. Bath time.'  
>Bath time? That definitely wasn't the sunny dream telling him to bathe. He'd always hated getting up quickly. Usually, Mrs Weasley would have to drag him and Fred out of bed if they needed to be anywhere early and after everything, getting up to go somewhere was at least thirty times harder.<p>

'No.' George grumbled, feeling like a five year old again. He could see half of his pillow now, and the streaks of light filtering in through the window. He pulled the duvet upwards and over his head so the light couldn't hurt his eyes. 'No bath.' But she had already yanked the covers away from him again, and he couldn't be bothered to go looking for them.

'Oh no you don't,' said both dream- and real-Lunas, who were blending rapidly. George looked up at the sky again as Luna began to count, half-convinced he could hear the rain louder and clearer than before.

'One.'

Maybe Fred was right. The rain sounded awfully close.

'Two.'

Sure, he could protect himself from getting wet. But that required energy and effort, neither of which he had.

'Three.'

Why was Luna counting up to the rainfall anyway? It wasn't as if she knew when it was coming. She was hardly a rain goddess or anything.

But apparently she was a lot more knowledgeable about this 'rain' than George expected...

_SPLASH_

George jumped out of bed, swearing loudly as the water drenched his head. So it wasn't rain, and the meadow wasn't real, and Fred didn't exist any longer either.

'Luna, what the hell?' He scowled, shivering slightly as the cold water soaked into his pyjamas. Those pyjamas had been through a lot, considering. Blood. Sweat. What felt like the ice cold water Luna had just drenched him in.

'You had to wake up. Fred's funeral is in an hour. You have to get ready.'

It was the same way every time George woke up. He'd have to remember Fred was gone all over again, body entering the same level of shock each time. But the word funeral was included this time, making everything a heck lot worse.

'Oh no. God no. No no no no NO!'

He couldn't do that. He wouldn't. Fred would have hated seeing everyone dressed in black, crying for him. George most of all.

'No, George. Don't you dare start this now. Not now. We don't have time. Later, please George. Save it for later.'

Luna grabbed his shoulders and George gave in. She was probably right. Having an emotional breakdown wouldn't help one bit, and it would ruin George completly if he had to miss the funeral to stay at home sobbing like a baby on Luna's shoulder. Sure, he'd done so plenty of times, but if he was keeping one bit of dignity, it was now or never. __

He rapidly blinked back tears and took deep breaths, as she'd taught him. __

'Thank you. Charlie is waiting for you in the bathroom with a bath, okay?'

George nodded slowly. Charlie was always the back-up plan if Luna wasn't around, or they needed a second person. He was closest to George, after Fred, and although George appreciated his help and understood he'd been mourning too, it was very easy to lose his temper at Charlie, for some reason.

Luna took his hand and held it in her own, warm hand and squeezed it gently. George didn't have the heart to flinch away, and didn't want to either. Instead, he squeezed it back and attempted the closest he could get to a smile, but she wasn't looking.

'Thanks, Luna,' he said gratefully, sure she couldn't hear, but meaning it all the less as he turned and left for the bathroom.

'Aah, George. Took you a while,' Charlie attempted to grin as George walked in to find his older brother perched on the edge of the sink, fully dressed in a suit and tie. 'Need a hand?'

George rolled his eyes. He could still _bathe _by himself, for goodness sake. So maybe Charlie did have to help him dress once or twice, when he was at his very worse. But sitting in a bath was simple. And didn't have stupid, fiddly buttons.

'I'm fine Charlie, honsetly.'

Charlie made a sceptical noise, but got up from his perch, dropping a towel in George's hands before leaving. George knew Charlie was sitting right outside, making sure his little brother didn't do anything stupid, but he shut the door with a click, undressed and slid into the deep, bubbly water.

It was weird. George seemed to spend all his time sleeping, in deep depressing thought or having emotional breakdowns. It was times like these he actually wanted to** do **something, despite the fact he wanted to do nothing but mope five minutes later.

'Don't lose it at Percy today, George. Or upset Luna, or Mum, or Charlie. They've got problems too.'

First sign of going mad; talking to yourself

George continued to mutter away quietly, thinking out loud as he rubbed the nearest soap all over his body, forgetting the magic bubbles could clean him. After deciding he'd been in the longest time it was acceptable for a man to bathe, George submerged his whole body under the water for a couple of seconds, and climbed out.

He wrapped the towel around himself and stumbled back to his bedroom, now understanding why Luna and Charlie were so keen to escort him everywhere. He couldn't even walk properly, for Merlin's sake. It really was like being a baby all over again.

George scowled, but his face lightened slightly as he pushed open the door and saw Luna's face for a second, before she blushed and turned to face the window, her cheeks going bright pink.

'You'll wear what's on the bed.'

He looked at the bed and spotted a black suit. Black shoes. Black tie. If he'd had the time and energy, George would have argued; Fred hated black more than most colours. Surely the Weasleys knew that? From the look of the clothing, Charlie had chosen it. Why hadn't he, George's 'second closest' brother, realised that Fred would have utterly hated black.

George reached out for the underwear, black** again**, and started to put it on. Charlie, who had been sitting on the floor for some reason, turned around as George reached out for the shirt. He reached out for the cotton with his brother, instantly spotting the dizzy spells that occasionally came with the ear-loss.

'Get off Charlie! I can dress myself! I'm not five!'  
><em><br>Don't upset Charlie. _Well that failed royally, thought George as Charlie muttered an angry response, followed by words from Luna. He turned and left the room, stomping angrily down the stairs. George knew he'd meant well, but it was getting tiresome. Somehow, being treated like that by Luna was ok. But only Luna.

'Are you decent?'

George nodded, before looking up and seeing Luna hadn't moved from her window position.

'I'm dressed.'

He reached out for a bacon sandwich and started to chew, realising he'd lost track of the last time he'd eaten a proper meal. Luna turned around and smiled at him. The corners of George's mouth twitched in the upward direction as she folded his pyjamas. She was one of those people who didn't just smile with their mouths. He couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lit up ever so slightly when she saw him eat. It was genuine; she was genuinly pleased to see him eat, and not just because he was a patient.

'Luna?'

'Yes George?'

She looked up, probably expecting him to whinge about something or other again, or just to burst into tears again.

'I- I- Thank you.'

It was pretty lame, to be honest. Thank you didn't sum it up well enough, but it was a start. He wanted Luna to know he actually appreciated it... She'd probably lost so much sleep over looking after him non-stop, and it wasn't just the guilty feelings causing George to thank her.

'For what?'

'For helping me. For looking after me. For keeping me calm and putting up with all my, er – all my rubbish.'

That was what it was, right? In a nutshell. The nightmares, the breaking down, the interruping old Xeno's funeral and ruining it all minutes later. He looked into her eyes. They were a clear blue, like the sky on a summer's day. But George was sure they changed. Not a great amount, but they were a little like the sky; cloudy grey when she really was angry, and varying shades of blue depending on her mood.

'You're thanking me… for looking after you?'

George nodded. He wasn't exactly the greatest with words, but that much was obvious. But Luna only laughed.

'What a ridiculous thing to thank me for!'

Luna laughed, and although George was deeply hurt by it, he felt a small pang of pride for making her laugh, unsure if he'd even managed that before.

'You're – are you laughing at me?'

He was slighlty upset nonetheless. It'd taken a lot more than you'd imagine to say that to Luna, and she'd taken it as a joke.

'Oh George, I'm so sorry. I've been up for over 36 hours. I know it's no real excuse but it might have made me a little bit insensitive.'

She hugged George, and he understood. He couldn't exactly say he was always at his best of moods. But why wasn't she sleeping? If he was stopping her...

'36 hours? Luna, why didn't you sleep,' he frowned. She couldn't do that. 36 hours was a long time, and if he'd been that long without sleep, it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Turning to look at Luna slightly, she did look physically ill with exhaustion. And to think he was the one that collapsed.

'I couldn't. I was so worried about you.' 

She stepped away from George and he frowned again, upset Luna was doing this much. She didn't have to, was getting no recognition and George really wanted to make it up to her somehow. She couldn't just go and make herself ill, not for him. It wasn't worth it. Coming to think of it, Luna looked a bit on the skinny side too. None of the Weasleys or close friends had eaten much after the war, George in particular. And by the look of things, Luna hadn't either.

'But you've eaten, right?'

Luna wouldn't lie to him, would she? George didn't expect her the kind of person who would lie to him. After all, she was the only person he really told the truth to anymore. But he needent have worried about that, because Luna shook her head slowly. So his assumptions were right. He was stopping her from eating with his moods and all of his crappy stuff she dealt with.

'Why not?'

'I was so worried about you that I forgot to eat. It never even crossed my mind.'

'Well eat something now,' George grabbed a bacon sandwich from the plate and thrusted it at Luna. He wasn't going anywhere until she ate and she was doing everything to get him to the funeral. He'd trapped her; she had to eat. Luna muttered a reply about being late, but George had his reply ready. 'Luna, you have to eat.'  
>Have. She had no choice. This was the first thing George had been at all ambitious with since the battle, and it felt weird, but it needed to happen.<p>

'I'll eat later. We need to get to the church.'

George reached out and grabbed Luna's wrist, not tightly, as she made another feeble excuse. He twisted her so she had to face him and spoke again, anger rising in his voice.

'Eat it or I won't eat for the next 36 hours and I'll make myself throw this back up too.'

He'd read about that somewhere. Hunger strike. Bribery. Emotional blackmail, whatever you wanted to call it, George was prepared to do if to persuade Luna to eat.

'Is that really what you want to do to yourself George?' 

He had to stop himself from answering her with an angry outburst. He needed her to eat, but he wanted to hurry up just as much as she did.

'I want you to eat. You make me eat all the time so now it's your turn.

He sat down, arms crossed and face set.

'George, we don't have time-'

'You keep saying we don't have time but I'm not going anywhere until you eat something.'

George sat on the bed firmly. This probably was the longest conversation he'd had with Luna that didn't involve him in tears, or yelling. Maybe he was on the path to recovery. Probably not, though.

'You won't.'

'Try me.'

Luna glared at George, her eyes darkening a little as she snatched the sandwich from him and nibbled at the corner, like someone polietly eating food they hated. She swallowed and handed him the majority of the sandwich back.

'I've eaten,' she said, evidently stressed about time.

'All of it,' George frowned, mimicking Luna's words as she persuaded him into eating.

She grabbed the sandwich back and swallowed the rest whole

'Are you happy now?'

What kind of question was that? An angry bubble inflated inside George. Yeah, of course he was happy. His twin had died. He was breaking down every other second and was stopping Luna, the only person who could actually help, from eating and sleeping. And today he had to sit in a church full of Fred's and his friends and family whilst people he only half knew waffled on about religious rubbish to the people dressed in the colour Fred had hated since George could remember. And Luna's glare hadn't helped. Maybe he was like that when she tried to help. George vowed to stop being angry at her when she was only trying to help, only able to guess how much he'd hurt her. However much of him wanted to snap back at Luna, he let the anger convert to tears in his reply.

'Not particularly. Now I have to go to- to go to-,' The tears started to form in his eyes and he didn't bother to stop them. He curled up on the bed as Luna seemed to stop her stress about the time taking over and stop George from crying everywhere. After a couple of minutes, he was a sopping wet ginger mess that had to be at a funeral in thirty minutes. He heard Luna sigh as she held a handkerchief up to his nose.

'Blow,' she instructed, and George blew his nose. He could see his orange initials on his handkerchief that had practicially been passed between George and Luna in their times of need, although it was usually George who was being mopped up.

'We need to go now or we'll be late.'

Luna turned away as she spoke, hiding her face. Was she crying? And why? She barely knew Fred. It felt like George knew Luna, but after thinking about it, he didn't really. She'd never really had a proper conversation with him. It was always about George. George this, George that. Not that he was nosy, but he wanted to know a little more about Luna too. She'd always seemed so... lonely at Hogwarts.

'Okay,' he coughed, placing the handkerchief back into his pocket. George would definitely need it for later.

'We ought to apparate,' Luna fiddled absently with the dress.

'Yeah, I s'pose so,' George wasn't really listeing. His mind was still worrying about the funeral. Would he be expected to talk to people about Fred as Luna had done about her father? Because that was impossible.

Luna walked over to him and took his hand in hers. But almost instinctivley, George jerked his hand away, partly wanting to be alone, partly from the shock of being touched. He knew instantly that had been a mistake, because Luna looked very hurt from his quick reaction.

'Be like that then.'

She turned and left the room hastily. George was unable to see her face, but her voice sounded on the verge of tears. Well done George, he thought. That was Luna and Charlie he'd upset in less than two hours. So much for everything he'd promised himself.

George turned to look in a mirror, something he'd avoided madly since losing Fred because he looked so empty without Fred beaming at his side. He looked a mess; red puffy eyes, tear tracks still glistening on his cheeks and the hair that he'd combed carefully a complete mess again. His eyes welled with tears again as he heard Luna move around downstairs. But- wait. Was she leaving without him? She wasn't really mad enough with him to do that, right? Because George wasn't sure where the funeral actually was, despite being with his parents and sibilings whilst they planned it.

'Luna?' He croaked, beginning to run down the stairs. At any other time he might have left her alone for a while, but he needed her now more than anything.

'What do you want George?'

She sounded so_ angry._

'Luna, don't be mad. I just wanted to help you.'

He'd reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of Luna, who was fiddling with her purse, frowning at George.

'I'm not mad. I don't have time to be mad. Your brother's funeral is in 20 minutes so I don't have time for anything!'

George blinked. She really was angry, and mad. A selfish part of him wanted to explode back at Luna, telling her to shut up and not to ruin Fred's funeral more, but George was better than that.

'This is what's going to happen George: I am going to take you to the church. I will sit with you and look after you there as needed and then I will bring you home again. I will stick around for the Waking but that is _it_. When the first person leaves, so do I.'

What? He needed to be there for all of it? How selfish was Luna being? It was George's last chance to see Fred. Forever. And Luna Lovegood exploding in his kitchen wasn't going to stop him. A mixutre of guilt, anger, sadness and fear brew up in him and George felt he might physically explode with it all.

'No Luna, please don't leave me.'

'Why? You don't want me here.'

Luna turned away and started to walk off, but George reached out and grabbed her wrist again, trying hard to keep his breakfast down.

'I do. I do want you with me Luna. I _need_ you,' he was resorting to begging, tears flooding his face for the countless time that day as Luna stood in the doorway, looking in the opposite direction. She couldn't leave him. George wasn't sure what he would do if she did, but the thought scared him more than most things.

'And what about what I want? What about what I need George.' 

She had a point, and had the situation been anything else, George would have let her do what she wanted. But he was being selfish, and he really couldn't.

'Luna, please...' he begged, shaking at the thought of having to find and sit through Fred's funeral on his own.

'I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry,' she turned around, facing George. George noticed she had been crying a lot in a short time too, and felt another pang of guilt for putting Luna through this. He pulled her into a hug, leaning down and sobbing on her shoulder again. As he clung to her, George wondered how long it would be before there would be a dent in the shape of his face embedded in her shoulder. Probably not long, given the amount it happened.

George felt himself being squeezed as Luna apparated the two to the funeral, realising he hadn't apparated at all recently. Or used magic much either.

'George, we need to get inside,' she pulled him off her and George felt slightly bad about how wet her shoulder was now.

'I can't do it,' he sobbed, wanting to sit or lie down again despite the fact he'd slept for hours. Everything too so much effort and energy.

'Yes you can,' she held him up, standing awkwardly due to the height difference. She reached out a small hand, and stroked his cheek. George gave in and forced himself to move properly again as Luna put her arm through his and led him into the church...

George couldn't help but noticed all eyes were on him and Luna as they trudged into the little church. He tried hard not to make eye contact with anyone, but spotted Lee, Angelina and the rest of the old Quidditch team among many others whispering at Luna supporting him. But this seemed to go unnoticed by Luna, who led him to his seat silently. George dropped down beside his mother, who looked almost as bad as him. She was wearing a new black dress, but had a little orange bird on her necklace. He swallowed; that was the necklace him and Fred had stolen from her multiple times as children. The little bird had always intrugied them. Mrs Weasley kissed George on the forehead as he sat in his sea, staring up at the front but not seeing. He didn't have the heart to flinch.

George jumped slightly as the little man leading the funeral started to talk about Fred. He didn't even know who he was; Fred or him had never seen the man before. Mr and Mrs Weasley probably had mentioned they weren't saying most of the stuff at it, but the majority of the plans had went in his one ear and out the other hole.

'Fred was a good person, a hero, who died doing his best to restore the wizarding world,' the short man said sorrowfully. George stared at his twin, not really taking in the words as he tried to imprint the image on Fred in his head forever. He was wearing a suit identical to George's : black. His eyes were shut and his face mildly scarred from the battle, but looking a lot better than his twin currently did. Tears leaked from his eyes and down his face as Molly sobbed a little more noisily beside him, Arthur's arm around her. George barely even registered when they stood up and walked slowly to the front to say something for themselves.

It didn't last as long as the little man's sombre speech, but it meant a lot more to George. He cried harder as his parents, mainly Arthur, spoke about the pranks and Quidditch and the shop. Everything he and Fred had shared was now all his. And George didn't want any of it anymore.

'And now his twin, George, has a few words.'

George jumped as his name was mentioned, tearing his eyes from Fred as Charlie handed him the piece of writing they'd written about Fred. It was probably the seventh try; the previous six were unreadable due to the amount of George's wet tears on them.

'I- I can't do it,' he looked up at Luna, who had been sitting on his other side, 'I can't.'

'Do you want me to do it?' Luna offered, as George dried his soaking and aching eyes with a crumpled tissue. The entire Weasley family had probably spent thousands on tissues since Fred's death. George nodded gratefully, taking Luna's hand and walking over to the front of the church where they both stood. He unfolded the note of Charlie's scrawly writing and the shaky notes George had occasionally made. He clung to Luna, not caring that he was crying on to her in front of all his friends and family.

'None of you here today will miss Fred like I will. You will never miss anyone like I miss Fred. We did everything together. Slept, ate, pranked, flew, fought – heck, we even needed the toilet at the exact same time," – Luna paused to allow a few half-hearted chuckles before she went on – "We were one and the same, Fred and I but- but now he's dead and it's like I'm both physically and mentally missing half of myself. Where my left side should be is just this void, this kind of hollow empty nothingness that was once full of life. On my left side is where Fred should be but he's not. I will never see Fred again. Not until the day I die at least and I – we – plan for that to be a very long way away. It just sucks that Fred will never be there to be the best man at my wedding (assuming any woman could bear marrying me) or be Godfather to my kids. I was lucky I got to see him grow old just once before he died. The thing is it doesn't matter really because I know that Fred's okay. He's being looked after by Lily Potter just like mum looks after Harry and Sirius, Remus and James Potter are teaching him old school pranks that we knew by the time we were three. But Fred is safe there. Safe and loved just as he should be. Luna-'

Luna faltered as she read her name out loud but carried on regardless.

'Luna told me so and how can she be wrong? Everyone loves Fred and Luna promised everything is going to be alright. Fred would believe her just as much as I do, not that I'd ever want to swap places with him. I never want him to feel this pain. It won't be as bad for him in heaven with some of the greatest pranksters of all time and my ear to keep him company – the lucky sod. I guess the greatest challenge now is reality. ' Luna stopped again and turned to George who nodded at her to say the last line.

'Fred, I love you. Wait for me.'

George didn't look at the people watching when he said that line, or his family, or even Luna. He gazed directly at Fred's face, which still had a flicker of a smile on it and he trembled, trying not to sob loudly.

She dragged him back to his seat, something George was glad of. He didn't want people to look at him anymore.

'Now let us say our final goodbyes before we sing hymns and pray.'

The Weasleys lined up to speak to Fred, George at the back. He wanted the final words, to be the last to speak to his twin. Luna stood in front of him, a good few inches shorter than him and Percy, who was in front of her. George's family all cried to some degree as they said their goodbyes and when Percy finally finished, Luna and George were called up, walking over to Fred's coffin with their hands held.

'I- I'm sorry Fred. I really am. I wish this hadn't happened to you but it has and I'm trying to do the best I can to keep George going but it's hard. I promise I'll try harder for you and for George and for everyone else. Please wait for him and watch over him. You know how much he needs you.'

Considering Luna barely knew Fred, that had been a very meaningful few words, George thought, feeling sick as his brain tried to match words to feeling, figuring what to say on his turn.

Luna finished her last words and threw a look at George, walking away far enough for him to say whatever words in private. As far as he was concerned, they could be his last words ever.

'Fred,' he whispered, crouching so the twins' faces were almost touching, 'Fred... Fred please...'  
>Words were failing him already and Fred's clean face had George's tears all over. George wanted to cling to Fred, to be in heaven with him, or for Fred to sit up, grinning and saying it was just a cruel joke. But George had been through all that. 'Fred, I don't want you to go,' he swallowed, coughing slightly as his nose started to run along with the tears. He clutched the smooth wood, knowing he shouldn't ruin it for his family now, but not wanting to move away from Fred. Luna walked over to him, her logic probably to tear him away before he started screaming and making even more of a scene, if that was possible. She pulled him to his feet so he could be supported by her, not the coffin.<p>

'Bye, Fred,' he whispered as Luna half dragged, half carried him away, struggling slightly with George's weight; he was failing to support himself properly thanks to the fact he was shaking.

'Carry on with the service.'

Everyone had probably been betting on how long George was last. Most people knew about how he was now, or had their assumptions, and now had their answer. Luna dragged George through the church, his sobs totally wrecking the carefully planned service, but nodoby seemed to be helping Luna. For a second, Charlie and Bill seemed to rise from their seats, but neither came to assist her. She dragged him into a little bathroom and sat George down on the toilet.

'Ssssh,' she said, wiping his eyes with her giant stack of tissues that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, 'Come on. You were doing so well.'

'He- he- he's gone. He's really gone!'

Any part of George left that hadn't already broke down, Fred's death finally sinking in fully. He wanted to curl up in a ball and never have to do anything ever again. But that was what the war did. Even though the battle was over, the aftermath was just as big. Bigger.

'I know. I know, But he's in a better place now and he's waiting there for you. We talked about it.'

She stroked his messy ginger hair from getting in his eyes.

'I can't do it! He left me.'

George knew he was probably yelling loud enough for the entire church to hear, but he didn't stop. The night he'd lost his ear, Fred and George had promised each other never to leave the other twin. And Fred had.

'I know Georgie, I know.'

Luna's voice in itself was calming George slightly. Not much, but had anyone but Luna been there instead, he could have garunteed he'd be in a bigger state. Her eyes filled with water too, and turned a grey-blue before she rubbed them madly, as though trying to hide the fact she was crying.

'Shall I take you home?'

George nodded, knowing he couldn't face going back anymore. He'd said everything he could to Fred, anyway.

'Okay then. You need to stand up so I can apparate us both back to The Burrow.'

'Parents,' George spluttered, not knowing how much Molly and Arthur had seen or worked out.

'Do you want me to go tell them? It'll mean leaving you alone for a minute.'

'No,' George shook his head. He couldn't risk Luna leaving him and she wouldn't want to face the possible humilitation of having to walk right through everyone. George had lost his twin, and in two funerals, him and Luna had been attached to each other. If people didn't know better, they probably had suspicions the pair were dating. Something which just added to the stress of everything in their lives.

'Ok then, up you get.'

She helped George off the seat and he clung to Luna like a lifeline, moaning slightly. She allowed him to hug her, breathing deeply as she prepared to apparate. George put his head in the George-spot on her shoulder and breathed in deeply, smelling the fruity scent of her hair as she turned to take him home. It might take a while. Years, surely, but George knew the only way to get through this was with Luna. 


	6. Chapter 6

In the weeks after Fred's funeral, it would have been positive to say George was in the same state. If the Weasleys and Luna were being honest, there had been days on which he had been nothing but worse. The best that could be said of him was the shock was wearing off slightly, and nobody made the mistake of calling him Fred again, something which they were all grateful for. But George had got ill again, unable to keep any food down for longer than an hour, something which Luna couldn't prevent however far her efforts went. Luna wasn't doing much better, and through everything, George could still see that. She practically lived in his room with George, leaving only for things like washing and occasionally with him for a family meal, if they were up to it, but George had noticed she was barely eating either.

He'd mentioned it several times, concerned about how his ruined life was slowly tearing her own apart, which he hated to watch, but Luna always managed to change the subject, claiming she only thought about it when he needed her most.

George felt guilty really. Despite what everyone else said about how close him and Fred were, he dealt with grief at least a hundred times more than everyone else, him, who was supposed to be strong and brave. But Luna had said on at least one occasion that everyone has their breaking point, and whereas it usually had a build-up, George's was thrown straight at him; not that he really understood what she meant by that, but it sounded encouraging.

The weather changed gradually, evenings getting longer and lighter, and George was on the verge of swapping the old knitted jumpers Mrs Weasley had made him for t-shirts. Summer was definitely on the way, and he was finally over the worst of things, even if it did take a lot of effort to eat.

'Luna, this is absolutely ridiculous,' Charlie scowled one morning at breakfast, jerking George from his sleepy manner. It was hard to tell how much sleep he or Luna ever got. She probably got less, but his own wasn't exactly peaceful. To stop her from losing out on even more, George had partially trained himself not to scream and yell so much in the night; it wasn't really fair interrupting the only time Luna got to be herself, and she never needed to know this.

'Charlie! Apologise!' Molly sighed from over at the stove. Miniature arguments like this happened almost daily, and the lack of sleep gave everyone shorter tempers, something not desirable in a Weasley.

'Mum, she's not eating! She's barely eaten anything since the funeral and God forbid she's actually slept more than six hours this week. She's killing herself right in front of us and we're not doing anything about it!'

To be fair, Charlie had a point; Luna looked extremely like a zombie.

'Charlie…' she put down the frying pan, and Harry and Ron both looked up nervously, Ginny looking like she wanted to speak, but unsure what to say.

'So what Ma, you're going to let the only thing keeping George going to kill herself?'

George blinked at Luna. Was this intentional? Surely it couldn't be, but Luna always had been strange. He trusted her, right? He told himself the only reason she was like this was because she was too busy looking after him, but he couldn't be sure.

'I'm sorry. How selfish of me. I'm not being a very good role model for George now am I?' She speared some bacon with her fork and began to eat.

'Luna,' Molly sighed, turning and giving Luna what Fred and George had once called the 'You really need fattening up, come into my kitchen and eat look'. He had always thought that look was only aimed at him when she walked into his bedroom, but it was probably for the both of them.

'No, Charlie is right and I am very sorry. I will make a better attempt to eat and sleep more from now on,' she started to eat more bacon.

George knew she was sick of it. Bacon was all he ever seemed to eat nowadays.

'Luna?' He asked quietly, turning slightly in his seat to make eye contact.

'Yes George?' She smiled at her plate and played with the bacon like a child who was trying to hide their food.

'Have I made you ill?' He didn't mean to say it like a little child, but that was how it came out; innocent, at the very least.

'Don't be silly George,' she frowned slightly, 'What is happening to me is in no way your fault.'

George prayed she was telling the truth, he couldn't be the cause of Luna getting ill, and not just because she wouldn't be able to look after him. The meal finished in silence, people – mainly Ron – shooting awkward glances at each person across the table, but George didn't mind not having to make conversation; Luna seemed content staring out the window, and Mrs Weasley clanging the pots around made the room noisy enough for it not to be too awkward.

After the meal, Luna slipped upstairs into George's and her own temporary bedroom to collect some books. George was amazed she still wanted to continue with studying after everything, but it was her own choice and it wouldn't be fair to stop her however much he wanted to. Luna, with some help from George, had tidied the room enough for them to sleep and live in. Most nights, Luna slept in George's bed and George in Fred's old one, though on the worst of George's nights, Luna would sit by him whilst he attempted sleep.

That morning, George sat on the living room floor, designing a leaflet for his shop. The family had persuaded him to open it again and however hard it would be, George found it helpful having something to concentrate on, or work towards.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows as Luna pored over her books, George shooting an occasional glance and wondering why he ever bothered to study for NEWTs. Leaflet designing was much easier. It was only Ron and Luna helping with the shop; Lee had offered, but given the fact he had had a large argument with Fred and George and hadn't spoken to them until the day of the battle, George couldn't see why he should be able, or allowed to help.

George was just racking his brains to remember whether he'd learnt the wand movements illustrated in Luna's textbook when there were several knocks on the door. He jumped slightly, as he often did nowadays, but didn't move; the vast majority of the time it was someone for Harry, the famous Harry Potter. But either it was a whole fan club, or something else, because a few seconds later he could hear 3 voices in the kitchen, talking to Mrs Weasley. He tried to make out the words, but everything seemed so hushed it was impossible.

'George dear, you have some visitors,' Molly knocked on the living room door softly.

'It's not Lee again is it? Because if it is you can tell him to fu-' he scowled. Lee poked his nose in way too much nowadays.

'George,' Luna frowned, but he could tell she was trying to stop herself from smirking at his attitude to Lee.

The door swung open and three familiar faces entered. Oliver Wood; former Quidditch captain and the guy who took no shame in almost literally being Charlie's shoulder to cry on at Fred's funeral. Alicia Spinnet; George's Yule Ball date and ex-girlfriend. It hadn't been a big argument that split them up and they were still friends, but had kinda drifted apart in seventh-year. Now though, from the look of her, she was more than friends with Oliver. And Angelina Johnson; Fred's ex-girlfriend, who had sobbed her heart out at the funeral. George probably should have been mad at her for yelling at Fred so much when they broke up, but he couldn't bring himself to.

'I think I should be offended that he doesn't want to see us,' Oliver said quietly, looking George up and down as he dropped the leaflet and stood up slowly.

'I couldn't agree more Oliver,' Alicia nodded.

'I think he does really,' Angelina said quietly. George looked at her; she looked... older, a lot older than the day she had ran from the shop screaming and crying. But war aged people like nothing else.

Luna picked up her books and stood up too, making to move to another room so George could talk about Quidditch to the others, who she barely even knew.

'Please, don't leave on our account,' Oliver said kindly, looking as though he didn't want an awkward conversation with George either or he was worried George would get into hysterics again like at Fred's funeral.

But Luna promised she'd be back for lunch and left, closing the door and trapping George in with who felt like almost strangers.

'So... George,' Oliver began, sitting on Mr Weasley's armchair. George frowned slightly, but Oliver ploughed on, 'you getting the shop sorted?'

All three of them were watching George closely, but scared he would throw a plate at them any second. They should've known that priveledge was reserved for Percy.

'Yeah...' he said, sitting back down on the floor. Alicia reached out her hand and squeezed Oliver's. Angelina rolled her eyes. 'Are you two...' he motioned at Alicia, who was almost on Oliver's lap by now, 'together?'

'Yes,' Angelina said simply, smirking at her oppurtunity to change the subject. 'But you and Luna... we were all wondering...' she trailed off, looking at George hopefully for an answer.

George looked up. Him and Luna weren't going out... but what did he think about her? Feel about her? Was she even a friend? Or was her just her patient? He worried about that a lot. Luna could leave him the minute he got better, but her wanted to be her friend, despite the fact she was a bit... weird, she was a great person.

'We- we're not,' he said slowly.

You could almost taste the tension in the room.

They talked for a while, topics never lasting long because George gave the shortest answers possible. He used to be someone so confident, but now it was getting weird for him to say his own voice. It was a relief when Mrs Weasley called them all into lunch, despite the fact George was not hungry and wanted to wait for Luna.

She was obviously trying very hard, for Mrs Weasley had made hundreds of sandwiches and laid them all out on the table, trying to give the visitors the impression the family was doing better than the rumours said.

'Please, sit down,' she smiled at Alicia, Oliver and Angelina; they all took seats, and George slid into his own, next to the empty place where Luna sat.

'Where's Luna?' George asked. Alicia and Angelina raised their eyebrows at each other.

'She's – well, we're not sure where she went dear,' Mrs Weasley began nervously, as she loaded sandwiches onto a plate for him 'she'll be back soon.'

But the last time George had to let go of someone like that, the someone was Fred. And that sentence triggered a whole load of worries.

'She vill be alright,' Fleur said, sitting oppsite George, her hair flying all over the table. Oliver gaped slightly, ignoring Alicia's sharp jabs on his shoulder.

'Yeah, but what if she isn't...?' George began, his voice croaky.

'Well, we should start anyway,' Molly said, looking at the clock that didn't even display the time and briskly changing the subject. George's hand was permanently stuck on 'lost', next to Fred's.

Nobody moved, George staring at Fleur's upside-down watch which was ticking away. Where was she?

Slowly, the Weasleys and the guests gave into hunger and started to eat. Glazed over, George stared at the food. Luna had promised, so where was she? What if she had been hurt? Or... Possibilities played in George's mind until tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Twenty minutes later and George was in full scale tears, the kind that only Luna's arrival could stop, but none of the Weasleys knew where she would be.

'What time is it?' Angelina asked quietly, taking the empty seat on George's other side and passing him a tissue, which George ignored.

Molly muttered something incoherent, but from the position of the hands on Fleur's watch, George knew he'd been crying for quite some time and Luna was very, very late.

'Georgie, please. Luna'll be ok...'

'But what if she isn't? What if...' He trailed off, unable to say it out loud.

Molly sighed and walked over to the fireplace.

'And vere are you going?' Fleur shot up like a bolt.

'I'm going to get the others here...' Molly shot a look at George, whose breathing was becoming shorter and more panicky. 'I can't... I want Arthur to be here.'

Oliver got the message and agreed to contact Percy, Bill and Charlie, who flooed instantly after getting the message.

'Where _is_ she?' Charlie frowned, pacing round the kitchen. It wasn't helping George, who was now sobbing, Fleur and Angelina whispering to him and trying to stop him from panicking entirely.

It seemed like hours whilst they all waited for Luna, trying to distract George. Percy flooed in and out of the house, contacting all sorts of people at the minsitry, partially to help George, and probably partially because it made him feel important.

A familiar whoosing sound came from the fireplace, and eveyone except from George, Fleur and Angelina ran towards it, praying for George's sake that it would be Luna.

Despite the crowds of Weasley around her, George heard Luna's laugh at their angry faces and leapt out of his seat.

'Luna!' He threw his arms around her, never wanting to let go.

'Hello George,' she smiled, hugging back. She was smiling, _smiling, _did this mean she was actually pleased to see him?

Fleur got up from the table and drifted off to the kitchen, Ginny following suit, both of them muttering about starting on dinner.

George kept hanging on to Luna; he was convinced he'd actually lost her. Angelina gave him an unreadable, but not positive look, over her shoulder before walking away, but he shrugged that off.

'Do you have any idea how worried you had us all?' Arthur began.

'George was in such a state that we all had to leave work to try and calm him down,' Bill said angryily. George didn't argue; he wasn't angry with Luna, but couldn't deny what Bill had just said.

'You didn't come back from lunch like you promised and you didn't tell anyone where you were going.' Charlie glared, but he didn't seem properly angry.

However, Luna was still smiling. Seconds earlier, she was claming it was the first time she had ever been told off. Had he been able, George would have laughed at that fact. Him and Fred always got told off at least six times a day.

'You're extremely lucky I was able to track you through my connections at the Ministry,' Percy scowled, fiddling with his glasses. George hadn't really seen the sense in doing that before looking for Luna in the obvious places; her home, her father's grave, Hogwarts, but that was the way Percy did things.

'Could you not have tried my home first rather than resorting to such drastic measures?'

George still clung to Luna, not saying anything, but he shifted his head in a nod of agreement with Luna. It felt wrong having a whole load of people track Luna. She was her own person, after all. Weren't there times when George wanted just to be alone?

'You flooed out of here Luna. You could have been anywhere,' Ron said, half-looking out of the window.'

'But I wasn't anywhere, I was at my house. And if you knew where I was, why didn't you come to find me?'

This was getting ridiculous, arguing so much over nothing, and George could tell Luna was getting closer to being angry than she'd ever been.

'I've only just returned from the ministry.' Percy seemed so angry. Why should he, though? He barely knew Luna, not that any of them did, but he the least. And why should he care for his little brother who had spent the last couple of months yelling at him and blaming him.

'And Luna, you should remember that now isn't a good time to be wandering off,' Arthur said wearily, shooting a look at Bill's scars, George's non-ear and the rest of the family, observing the amout of damage these times had caused. His eyes lingered the longest at Fred's hand on the family clock; George swallowed back tears.

'Why? The war is over Mr Weasley! The Death Eaters are all in Azkaban thanks to Kingsley, Harry and Ron! And I didn't wander off! I was at my house, cleaning it up because it's become a mess as I've not been there in months.'

George blinked. She sounded so angry, and it was scary. Like seeing Dumbledore angry, she had a certain air of angry force around her. George wanted both to cling to her good side and to run away.

'Luna- ' Bill began.

'Bill please. I've been looking after George for months because you can't do it yourselves and while I don't mind that I do mind the fact that when I make one tiny mistake and do one thing for myself and you blow and panic. I'm only human! No one here has made a move to defend me either! How's that for gratitude?'

And as Luna stood there yelling, the adult part of George realised quite how much she'd hurt herself or put up with in looking after him. If the others weren't watching, he'd be thanking her profusely. He wanted to make her better more than anything, and not just because he owed her big time, but that he'd come to regard her as a friend over the past few months, despite knowing so little about her. George knew he'd only be a patient in her eyes, though. Just another struggling war victim she had to care for.

'George,' her voice shook, 'I need you to let go of me.'

Physically let go? Or emotionally?

'Where are you going?' He frowned, wishing the others could get out so they could talk alone.

'I'm going back to my house. I will spend the night there and return to collect you in the morning. Charlie will put you to bed and if worse comes to worst, I'm sure he, Ron or Ginny will come and get me if I'm needed.'

She said it in a comforting way, but those were the words George had been dreading for a while now. What if she didn't come to collect him? He'd been blindly putting his faith in this girl for a long time, but the part of his mind and old self that was returning had one burning question – _why?_

'Can't I come with you?'

'No. I don't have food to feed you dinner or breakfast. I'll have to go food shopping in the village now actually. Besides, one of your friends is still here.'

That was a fairly rubbish excuse, she knew that he could go without eating and he would, but he let her make it. If anyone deserved to be alone, it was Luna.

'Luna-' Charlie began. George tried hard not to scowl. It seemed only he had noticed that Charlie had a little more than friendship on his mind when he spoke to Luna. And for some reason, he wanted to slap his older brother for it.

'Don't you dare tell me to take him with me Charlie Weasley,' Luna said sharply, cutting off the Weasley brother before he could plead George's case to her. 'George has got to learn to cope without me anyway. I'm returning to Hogwarts in a few weeks anyway.'

If he'd been dreading her previous words, George couldn't explain how he felt about her going to Hogwarts. The fact Luna had been studying meant the fact had been hanging in the air, but without her saying it nothing sounded final.

'What?' Several people spoke George's mind for him. After all, she was their only hope with George anymore. It wasn't that he was being selfish, but he'd miss her too much, especially if she went to the place Fred had died.

'The letters came out today,' Ginny said quietly, putting down knives and forks for dinner. 'I take it yours was delivered to your house?'

'Yes it did,' She nodded back. 'School starts early this year and finishes late.' She added.

George couldn't understand that. Why would anyone want to go back there? Especially for longer than usual.

'Why?' Ron asked.

George stared out the window as Percy waffled on about something to Ron in a pompous manner. Did Percy actually have emotions?

'Don't 'Ronald' me,' Ron snarled at Percy.

'So I'm not allowed to use your name anymore?' Percy snapped back; these fights and arguments were getting ridiculous. Nobody should have gotten like that over a name.

A fight broke out between them, somehow bringing all sorts of useless things into their words. George watched, wondering if it was him that had torn the family apart like this. They never said, but he sometimes got the impression they didn't really want him as much as they used to. George felt Luna slip away, but was glued to the spot, waiting for his name to be brought up in the fight. Arthur sighed and sunk into his chair whilst Molly sobbed quietly. Eventually, Luna grabbed Percy and Ron by the scruffs of their necks and dragged them outside.

George strained his ear to hear what was going on, but couldn't manage; his mothers sobbing was too loud. Instead, he sat on the very edge of the sofa and stared out the ajar door.

'She's gone.'

'What?' Arthur looked up, Percy and Ron had walked back in, both looking scared, annoyed and as though they still hadn't made up.

'Gone,' echoed Ron, half-heartedly gesturing out the door. 'She ran off.'

It took two seconds for George to make the plan. Luckily, his shoes were on and he was by the door. Everyone else was in a kind of trance, lamenting over Luna's disappearence. But if anything, it had snapped George back into harsh reality. The kind that sent him bolting out the door into the rain, wand in his hand.

The family called after him, but didn't follow. After a few moments George registered it was raining, but that only made his search easier. Over several hills, through a lot of splashed mud and over a ditch. All it took to find Luna.

'Luna?'

It was only a whisper that managed to escape George's mouth. She was lying on the ground, a wilted daisy in her hand.

George put his wand between his teeth and hoisted her up into a position that allowed him to carry the girl with as much ease as possible.

'I'm here,' he whispered in her ear, watching her shift slightly in recognition of the sound, 'It'll be ok, I promise.'

Apparation was one of those things you needed to do regularly to keep in pratice. And George hadn't apparated for a long time, but he neither had the strenght, energy or willpower to take Luna back to The Burrow. Crossing his fingers, toes and praying that he wouldn't splinch too much in the risky apparation, George spun on the spot with Luna to take her home.

'_Ouch.'_ He muttered, feeling a small clump of hair had splinched in the apparation. That was easily fixable, though.

The house was dust filled, but looked as though Luna had cleaned somewhat earlier in the day. He'd only been there once before, on the day of Xenophilius' funeral, but it was easy to work out where Luna's bedroom was. Right on the top floor, with beautiful paintings on the walls and ceiling. The word _friends_ repeated hundreds, if not thousands of times. Did she regard him as a friend now?

He found a pair of pyjamas in a draw and took Luna's clothes off carefully, trying not to look as he helped her semi-conscious body into the purple stripey material. Knowing there was little more he could do, George carried her into bed and tucked her in as best as possible, planting a kiss on her forehead before conjouring a chair and sitting in the shadows whilst she slept.

It was getting light when George decided waiting by Luna wouldn't do a great deal. He vanished the chair, making sure traces of himself were gone and spotted the wilted daisy lying on the stairs. Picking it up, George found a vase in the kitchen and placed it in it, bringing it back to life with a spell. On his way out, he grabbed Luna's booklist and apparated to Diagon Alley.

Diagon alley had regained the familiar buzz about it; youung children ran around the packed street and George – though tall, recognisable and ginger – could slip through the people into the more airy space of Flourish and Blott's. It only took him a few minutes to stop for the books, but on his way out of the street, George couldn't help but noticed the clumps of people reading the notices and posters on the shop, saying the re-opening provisional date. He still had a lot to sort out.

Apparating back to Luna's house, George scribbled out a note:

_Don't worry about paying me back. We'll settle the score later x_

He taped it to the spine of a large book of charms and walked down to the kitchen. Luna had been right, no food was in, but a quick trip to The Burrow, which he knew would be abandoned in search for him, got him all the food he needed to bring to Luna. For good measure, George scribbled a note for his family:

_I'm ok. Been seeing to things. I'll be around later. – G_

He apparated back and charmed the soup to stay warm, leaving it on the table with the apple juice and writing one last note for Luna:

_Eat. Please? X_

It was a lot later when George returned. He had returned to The Burrow and adopted a strange, silent manner around his family, only briefly telling them he had business to attend for the shop and for them not to worry. Amazingly, they didn't question it much. Luna had fallen asleep at the table having eaten the soup. Yawning, George carried her back up to her bed and sat with her until ensured he could leave her.

George continued to do things for Luna for a long while, days turning into weeks, but always ensuring she didn't catch him, whether employing the use of an invisibilty cloak, timing his visits carefully or just being sneaky. Angelina visited The Burrow more and more frequently, her presence turning into Luna's. But she didn't help George. He wasn't unfriendly to her, just distant. And when Luna did turn up, he made sure not to let her onto the fact he was the person giving her the food and buying her shopping. There'd be a time and a place for these things. The lack of Luna was cutting him off from the world, and he barely spoke to anybody anymore, but it was better than how he had been.

Eventually, time to go back to Hogwarts swung round, and George found himself knowing he had to reopen the shop soon, and to buy a Hogsmeade branch.

As he walked through the station, George spotted the back of Luna's head as she stood awkwardly on the platform, alone. That girl had lost a lot. He smiled slightly for the first time in a while, but it felt natural.

He placed his hands over her eyes

'Guess who?' He smiled, and Luna turned around to face him.

'What are you doing here?'

'"I had to see you again before you left.'

'If anything gets too difficult, owl me okay? McGonagall is happy for me to floo back in the evenings and on weekends if I need to.' Luna said as Mrs Weasley walked over after saying goodbye to Ginny and Hermione.

George couldn't look at Luna properly. He'd known she was going back to Hogwarts for weeks, and had accepted the fact, but couldn't bring himself to let her go. It was like something inside him needed her to stay. And not just the fact she could calm him down. George hadn't said anything, he wasn't even sure of his own feelings, which were warped and confused since Fred's death, but he liked Luna. **Liked **liked, but he was convinced the feeling wasn't mutual, after all, wasn't she just looking after him, nothing more, nothing less. He couldn't act upon it in the almost definite case she wasn't interested, and George didn't want to face the disappointment. But Luna was going back to Hogwarts, and he couldn't bear to see her go, especially when he still hadn't thanked her properly, something he couldn't bring himself to do for some reason.

'Luna, please don't go,' he whispered, hugging her tightly and breathing in the unusual, yet nice scent there always was when she walked into a room.

'It'll be Christmas before you know it and I'll be back at the Burrow.'

But George didn't want to wait; he didn't want her to leave in the first place... He'd done fine without all of his final year, and Harry had, and Ron. Luna was probably sick of him by now, and George didn't want to be clingy, but Fred had died, and sending Luna back to Hogwarts felt like her death sentence to him. This fact made him slightly sick with himself: Ginny was going back, and Hermione. So why wasn't he scared for them?

'Christmas isn't soon enough.' His voice cracked slightly as he wondered how he'd manage without her.

'What about the first Hogsmeade weekend?'

But the thing was, he didn't want her going there at all. What if there was another battle, and something happened to her? How would he cope then? Luna meant so much to him, but she didn't realise it. And never would.

'Luna, PLEASE.' He wasn't planning on begging, but Luna seemed set on going back, and he hadn't told her anything yet. It would surely take a while to pluck up the courage to tell her how he really felt, which he'd never manage.

'George, no I-'

But George had kissed Luna full on the mouth.

The idea hadn't been planned. George knew his eyes were almost as shocked at his own doing as Luna's. What the hell was he doing kissing her? She was young, and partially free. Getting her down with even more of his own stresses which he would do if she was his girlfriend wouldn't be any good at all, and he was being very selfish. Horribly selfish. Sick with himself, George let her pull away, knowing it was too late. She was going back; he wouldn't stop her, even if it did meant he couldn't be with her, and he would find some way to thank her someday. A tear rolled down George's cheek as the train got ready to depart, and Luna looked worridly over to the train.

'No George. I'm going. I want to. I've given you 5 months of my life where you have practically monopolized everything I do. Can't I just have this one thing for myself?'

She started to walk towards the train. He couldn't respond; sinking in the guilt he deserved. George hadn't even thanked her, or tried to make this easy. He'd kissed her. Yeah, he liked her, but she didn't feel the same way. Unable to open his mouth to apologise or thank her as all words were lost to him, George watched her get onto the train, praying madly he'd be able to make up to her someday...


	7. Chapter 7

Silence. That was George's main aspect of life now. Since Luna had returned to Hogwarts, he barely spoke. On the occasions he did use his voice, George found it almost surprising to hear it and it was hoarse and dry. But from the sound of Molly and Arthurs' 'private' conversations – which were about George ninety nine percent of the time (made totally public with the help of an extendable ear) – they were happier with this new George. But they didn't know what he was really like. He didn't sleep, having become so used to the presence of Luna in his own bed whilst he slept in Fred's, George was unsure where to sleep and usually ended up dragging the beds together or falling asleep perched on the windowsill. And even then he couldn't sleep; nobody to help him calm down if he got in any kind of state, or cried. Without Luna he was trapped in the freakish world that was his nightmares and George was reverting to coffee and other sources of caffeine to escape sleep. Whilst shut in his room, George would spend hours working on products and posters from the shop; his heart wasn't really in them and without Fred his sense of humour didn't really exist – how could a double act like that suddenly go single? – But it distracted himself from having to think about Luna. Missing her and trying to work out why his badly worded letters never got any replies. Would she really mind if the ink was smudged and he couldn't spell fairly well? She didn't seem that kind of a person.

Ginny and George were still in contact, George not mentioning Luna in his letters to her because he didn't want to bug Luna. If she didn't want to write... well, that was his problem. Looking down at his hand one autumn evening, he noticed the note that he'd scribbled down earlier – the fact that the next Hogsmeade weekend was tomorrow. He'd vaguely suggested the possibility of seeing Ginny, to fill up the blank parchment in the previous letter, but had thrown off the idea. However, the date stood out on his hand and George's thoughts could only be pulled to Luna. Would she be there?

Almost as if someone had read his thoughts, an owl landed on George's windowsill, flying in through the open window. A small roll of parchment was attached to its leg. He untied the letter with shaking hands, which were not trembling because of the breeze entering the window. He never got post, except the official owls which were sent to the shop. And the owl wasn't Pig, who Ginny always sent letters with.

_If you want to see me tomorrow, meet me outside Zonko's at 10:30am._

_Luna x._

George read the letter several times over, tracing Luna's neat writing with his finger. However brief the note seemed, she hadn't forgotten. And she had put a kiss, something that, according to Hermione's rather amusing lectures about romance to Ron, actually implied something. But he'd put a kiss on his sneaky notes to her. Not that she knew they were his.

Pulling out a quill and some parchment, he lay on Fred's bed and tried to think, but words failed him for a long time. It was almost midnight by the time George had actually managed to write something decent and legible, but everyone was still up; including Angelina. That bugged George; she would never replace Luna, so why even bother trying. He read the note one last time:

_Luna,_

_Of course I want to come... Why didn't you reply to my letters? – _sure, that was a little pushy, but he knew for a fact Charlie's letters got replies – _I don't know how long I'll manage, everything brings back memories of Fred, but we can try and meet up for a butterbeer or something. Tell Ginny I say hi and I'll see her the Hogsmeade weekend after. I hope you're getting on ok at Hogwarts._

_George. X_

It was a rubbish letter considering the amount of time, but if that was a brief note, a heartfelt, meaningful letter would drain him totally. Not bothering to change out of the jeans and t-shirt he'd been wearing for however long, George tied the note to the owl and climbed into bed. Little did he know Angelina was outside, and having shot the owl down with magic, had hold of George's letter, ripping up the parchment and burning it.

George woke from the light streaming in his open window on Saturday morning, his face on the pillow and blankets all over the place. Looking at the watch that was still on his wrist, he swore aloud, noting it was quarter past ten.

It took him five minutes to throw on a cloak, flatten his hair, wash his face and explain to his parents where he was going. After that George apparated to Hogsmeade and ploughed through the crowds to Zonko's, keeping his head down so as not to be seen or have to look at anything that brought back memories. But Zonko's did just that. Fred and George used to spend hours in the shop; buying, planning, designing and pranking. A small pair of brothers dashed past George's ankles and he bit his lip, holding back tears. Why couldn't that be him and Fred again?

The time ticked on, George scanning the crowds for Luna every minute or so, but with no luck. It was twenty to eleven when he gave up, trying to work out why Luna didn't come. He started to walk further into the countryside, looking for a place to sit down and rest. George hadn't eaten, or slept particularly well for a long while.

'George!'

There had been several other shouts of his name earlier, which George had almost automatically ignored, but the sound of Luna's voice caused him to whip around, taking in her long hair and neat clothes. They didn't match her tired, strained face and the bloodshot eyes. She'd lost a lot of weight too. He started walking towards her, pushing through the clumps of people. Was it really her? And why had he made her wait? But she was here now and that was what mattered.

'I thought you decided to l-to ditch me,' he swallowed, realising Fred and he had once pulled a brilliant prank on Percy right by the spot where they were standing. How long could he keep the tears in?

'I'm sorry. I got distracted in the Post Office.' She said, looking as though she wanted to add something, but didn't

George frowned. The Post Office? How believable was that? But there wasn't time to argue, so he just nodded slowly, wishing he and Luna could be somewhere he didn't have to think about the battle, or Hogwarts or Fred.

'It's a little chilly. Shall we go onto the Three Broomsticks for a drink?'

He stared at the students as Luna spoke. A boy walked past and his eyes locked onto George's; it was a boy – presumably under-age who had sneakily stayed behind and fought alongside George. He had been there as George rushed into the great hall...

'Sure,' he shrugged, tearing both eyes away from the boy and walking towards the pub. He was determined for Luna not to see the tears that were blurring his vision and running ice-cold onto his cheeks. Luna went to find the table whilst George ordered the drinks.

'Two butterbeers please.'

'It's George, isn't it?' Madam Rosemerta scanned his face and stared at the missing ear. That woman knew everyone, 'and that's four sickles.'

George nodded and handed over the money. He didn't like her staring; her gaping at his appearance change and even when George turned her could feel her round hazel eyes on the back of his neck. This was a mistake, coming here to see Luna. George knew far too many people to feel safe or comfortable. He walked quickly over to the table, staring at the ground before placing down the drinks and sitting opposite her.

'So I'm thinking of buying myself an owl at Christmas,' Luna raised her voice above the buzzing pub to attempt the kind of conversation George had no energy or concentration for.

'That's nice,' he said, staring at the table. It was almost second nature to reply like that.

'Do you have any suggestions about buying owls?' Luna ploughed on, apparently not picking up George's signs of wanting to talk properly. She was the only person he could say a lot of things to.

'Not really,' he frowned at the table. Of all things, owls? They could have discussed how Luna was, or George's progress or what George really wanted to talk about (not that it would ever happen) but she turned the subject to birds.

Finally fed up of the table, he looked up at Luna and reached out a shaky hand and caressed the side of her smooth, warm skin. He waited for her to respond in some way, but she stayed still. He couldn't look at her as he pulled his hand away, so it was only him that felt like this about Luna. Not vice-versa. Feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach several times, George spoke to her softly.

'I'm sorry. I can't do this.'

And he really couldn't, he couldn't pretend he was ok, or be in the place that he and Fred had spent so much time, or look up at the castle they had lived in for years and he couldn't feel the way he did about Luna if she didn't feel if back. As he walked out of the pub and strode through the crowds, hot tears fell on his cheeks. The occasional witch or wizard stopped and tried to speak to him; it wasn't every day you saw a fully grown man walking down the street sobbing. But he kept on walking until reaching a point and realising he had to apparate somewhere. So George went home.

Over the next few days, or however long it was, George ate and slept even less, just enough to keep him from collapsing all the time from exhaustion or being sent to Mungo's. He threw himself into work for the shop, making far too many posters and filling out endless piles of paperwork. It was getting close to Christmas when George braved a mirror and realised quite how much weight he'd lost from barely eating. He looked like a zombie on a diet. One snowy day, quite fed up from the lack of seeing his little brother, Bill barged into George's bedroom, where George sat on the floor gazing at the swirling snow, which was almost hypnotic.

'Can I come in?'

'Why even ask? You've already barged in,' George sniffed, grabbing a tissue. The weather had brought cold after cold.

Bill shrugged off the comment and sat opposite George, gaping slightly. He probably looked a right mess and didn't smell great either. From the look of things, it hurt Bill a lot seeing George like this.

'You should ask Mum for something to take for that cold,' he nodded, looking at the stack of tissues that was once the wastepaper bin.

'Later,' George nodded. He didn't like seeing his Mum much; she had enough to worry about anyway without his health on top of that.

They sat in silence for a second as George aimed the tissue at the bin, which Bill then cleared with a flick of his wand.

'You all set for Christmas then?' Bill began, taking a shot at conversation.

Christmas... Thanks to everything, he'd totally forgotten about his first Christmas without Fred. Was he expected to be festive and happy? Because that wouldn't happen without a LOT of alcohol...

'Not really,' he frowned, looking up at his older brother, 'do I have to join in?'

'Luna might be coming,' Bill avoided the question.

'Hmm.' George mumbled in reply.

'What's Luna done?' Bill said kindly.

'She's not bothered with me anymore,' George swallowed, remembering the fact she seemed to get no pleasure out of meeting him and that she had no feelings for him whatsoever.

'Don't be ridiculous,' Bill almost laughed, 'you mean a lot to Luna.'

Then why had Luna never replied to his letters? She wasn't mentioned in Ginny's either. It was obvious Ginny had picked up the hints that Luna didn't care about him anymore and left it for George to figure out.

'No she doesn't. I'm just a patient of hers who she has to look after. I don't really matter,' he stared at the carpet.

'George, you're being stupid. Luna loves you a lot more than you think.

'Don't, Bill,' George scowled, 'she never replied to my letters, she doesn't love me and she finds it tedious and annoying to see me.' He blinked back tears, 'I'm going.'

He made his way to the bathroom, somewhere that Bill couldn't get in easily, but his older brother followed and his strong arm kept the door open.

'Listen, if Luna comes home for Christmas, it'll prove everything.'

George looked away and shut the door. It wasn't likely, but a tiny ray of hope had been let into him.

It didn't feel like Christmastime as far as George was concerned; The Burrow no longer had any festive spirit and it took a lot of persuasion from Ginny and Ron – who were both enforcing the 'back to normal as possible' approach to things, to get the Christmas tree up. George awoke early on the actual day, looking out the window to find several inches of fresh snow and more flakes still falling. It was early, nobody in the house would be awake, but George wanted to attempt the trip he had been building himself up to for a while now.

It took two minutes for George to pull on an old, warm jumper and his best pair of jeans – it was Christmas, after all. As he turned around he spotted the pair of Santa hats he and Fred always wore on the day itself, lying in the bottom of the wardrobe almost as if Fred had been watching them and thrown them down. Grabbing the pair of hats, George put one on his head and stored the other one in his coat pocket. He'd need to keep as warm as possible, outside in the graveyard. Where he was going to see Fred. But first he had business to attend.

George looped his finger through the brand new cage he had purchased only days ago, praying the handsome snowy owl inside stayed quiet and didn't screech. This present was for Luna, but from who she knew only as the mysterious stranger who gave her food and cleaned her home. Luna had been talking of getting an owl, but there was nobody left in her family to buy her one and George knew for a fact that none of the Weasleys would buy her one either.

With the knowledge she'd never had an owl, he also picked up some supplies, only then realising the fact that the owl would probably end up eating more than he did. Even if she didn't eat either, Luna would be bound to take good care of the owl like he did for the three remaining pygmy puffs that had managed to survive everything.

He apparated to Luna's house with slight difficulty; the cage was large and bulky and he didn't want to hurt the owl or wake Luna up by appearing in her house with a loud noise. She didn't yet need to know it was him who did this. Part of the reason he managed to keep up with doing it was because it was secret from her.

He placed the owl on the table and used a couple of spells to clear away some dust for good measure. It was Christmas, after all. Pulling out a quill, George scribbled a note in the handwriting Luna had still failed to match up with his own:

_Merry Christmas Luna. She's all yours. X_

He hoped she hadn't forgotten about his little notes, but it was unlikely. George hadn't forgotten her help and she was probably curious to find out who was doing this. And that was George's intention.

One apparation later he was in the graveyard – or more of a field – where George's twin lay. It was deserted; nobody else came to visit dead relatives at five on Christmas morning.

'Fred,' he whispered hoarsely, walking over to the gravestone that was Fred's. The message on it was snowed over and with a cold hand he brushed away the snow to read the message the Weasleys had spent weeks over.

_Fred Weasley, loving twin, brother, son and friend. Mischief Managed._

'Fred, I miss you,' he could barely speak and tears were already welling in George's eyes, but he had to say happy Christmas to his own twin. Pulling out the Santa hat and laying it on the grave so Fred could reach out and wear it anytime, George whispered a Merry Christmas, for the first time ever he wouldn't get one in return. Having said the words , he pulled out a short silver knife that Molly had been fretting over losing for weeks, and carved his message and the date into the stone, an impossible feat without the help of magic.

'George!'

George almost jumped out of his skin as he whipped around to see Percy standing there awkwardly.

'What are you doing here?' George asked Percy, standing defensively in front of the grave.

'Seeing if you're alright.'

'How did you know I'd be here.'

Percy made a haughty cough and George moved away from the gravestone, knowing not to ask anymore.

'You ready to go?' He asked his little brother softly.

George shot one last look at the grave, promised Fred he'd be back later and nodded, looking like the most unfestive person ever, despite the Santa hat still on his head. Percy grabbed his arm and apparated them both back to The Burrow, neither saying anything as they walked through the garden and into the kitchen.

'Merry Christmas, George,' Percy said, awkwardly hugging George, who didn't flinch – a hug from Percy was a very rare thing, but showed he obviously cared. They exchanged presents quietly, George handing his older brother several large writing quills and some of Percy's favourite ink. It was a boring present, but the kind of thing he wouldn't have to pretend to like.

'Bit of a change, isn't it?' George said, examining the present that wasn't a book.

'What use would it be giving you a book?' Percy shrugged. George hardly ever read.

In the gift was a large set of inks and quills too, but not the kind George had given Percy; they were greens and oranges and every shade of purple. Every colour of the rainbow. It might have seemed a weird gift, but he had been running low, and the colourful inks would be wonderful for the shop. There were even ones which changed colour or sparkled.

'Thanks, Perce,' George smiled genuinely, looking at the box and ideas already springing in his mind for the use of the different colours.

'It's nothing,' Percy replied, but smiled proudly. He looked at his watch, 'Angelina and Luna will be here soon.'

Angelina? Didn't she have her own family to spend Christmas with. She was getting annoying and on the verge of clingy in George's opinion. And Luna; Bill said he'd prove Luna loved him, but he couldn't stop the doubts. Not that she knew, but George had already given Luna one of her presents, a handsome owl. But she still thought the owl was from the stranger who had looked after her. Would Luna ever know that was George?

It was only an hour or so later when the Weasleys first started arriving downstairs, hugging each other and passing presents around the room. George curled up in a chair being as festive as possible and waiting for Luna.

'Merry Christmas, Georgie,' Mrs Weasley yawned, arriving downstairs to receive several hugs and about six cups of tea. She broke through her family and hugged him as he smiled as much as possible.

'Merry Christmas Mum.'

If he had to choose who in the room would find the day hardest after him, it would be Molly; she'd coped with a lot in such a short space and could be almost as bad as George at times. Smiling, she handed out the usual jumpers, passing George an extra large parcel.

'Mum...' he whispered so only she could hear as he looked at the two jumpers in his arms; neither had a letter on but they were identical.

'I- I couldn't make only one,' she looked at her sons trembling face, 'I'm sorry George.'

'No, Mum,' he said, putting on both jumpers and still looking a lot more skinny than he used to be, 'I'll wear it for Fred, I will.'

Molly's next comment was drowned out by the sound of Angelina's arrival. She walked into the living room, accepting gifts and making a beeline for George.

'George!' She grinned, kissing him on the cheek. It felt awkward, but was probably only friendly, 'I've got a gift for you!'

'Luna!' George smiled, looking behind Angelina to see Luna Lovegood walking in. Luna had obviously put a lot of effort into how she looked for them all today. She reminded George of a snowflake that had fallen from the sky but had then been transformed into a human being. She was as pale as the snow outside but she glittered in the firelight. She was so painstakingly beautiful that it made George's heart ache. Why couldn' t she love him? He would treat her like a queen if she only gave him the chance. George stared at her for a moment, transfixed by her beauty before he started noticing all the tiny things that weren't quite right. He saw the purple-ish bruises due to lack of sleep through her make-up and how thin she was. In fact George guessed that she was almost as thin as him, if not the same which was definitely not a good thing. And then there was her eyes… there was something wrong about them. They didn't sparkle like the rest of her. They were dead inside, just like he felt. And then the moment was over and Luna started handing out presents. Leaping up and missing Angelina's scowling face, he put Luna's gift to the side of her main pile and before springing back to watch her open the rest, hoping she hadn't noticed he'd moved.

She recieved a pretty good haul, but the Weasleys were her closest thing to family now anyway. George himself had recieved the jumpers and some extra things for the shop from his parents, a razor from Bill and Fleur like the one Harry had been given for his seventeenth birthday (and probably as a hint for him to shave), a massive box of explosives from Charlie (to be hidden from Molly's sight), the inks from Charlie, a vast amount of chocolate frogs – George's favourite – from Ron and Hermione and a new beater's bat from Ginny and Harry in case he ever felt like playing Quidditch or just generally whacking something.

When Luna had opened everything except the final – George's – present, he watched closely as she shakily unwrapped the golden paper, as if expecting knives to leap out at her. She opened her mouth slightly – supposedly in amazement – as she examined the wooden box he had crafted. It was wooden, with paintings of the stars and moon on. In the moon George had carved her name, after being taught by Percy that the name itself meant moon. She opened the box and peered inside, and George bit his lip. What if she didn't like it? Or it wasn't good enough? He still had her own present to him to open. She lifted his handkerchief that had travelled between the two for a long while and gasped loudly.

'George, it's beautiful!'

'It was nothing,' he said quietly, not looking at her but feeling the tension leave his stomach.

'Oh, for goodness' sake,' Ginny scowled, grabbing both their wrists and dragging them up several flights of stairs. She threw them both into a cupboard that towels were usually kept in and grabbed their wands before shutting the door.

'GINNY, LET US OUT,' he yelled, punching the door. He couldn't be with Luna and hear she didn't love him again.

'Not until you talk things over and work out that you both love each other,' she called back.

Luna looked at George blankly and he tried not to do anything mad. He loved Luna but she didn't feel the same. He knew he couldn't cope with it, but he didn't want to hear it either.

'George...'

George stopped her talking by placing a finger on her lips; he couldn't face it.

'Don't. Please. Just don't say anything. I can't handle the rejection,' he couldn't look at her properly.

'I wasn't going to reject you,' she pushed a strand of ginger hair from his head.

'You weren't?'

'No. I love you George and I have for a while.'

If George had ever been happy since Fred's death, it was right now; locked in a cupboard on Christmas day with Luna Lovegood.

'Luna I-.'

Words failed George and he reached out to Luna, kissing her like he had wanted to for months, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her so close they could be one person, smelling her hair and feeling her soft lips on his own as she ran her hands through his hair.

'Oh my Godric.'

Ginny had wrenched the door open and was staring in disbelief at the pair, Angelina and Charlie at her heels. They sprang apart almost automatically and everyone exchanged awkward glances for a whole thirty seconds.

'Uh, Luna, my mum wanted a quick word with you in the kitchen,' Charlie trailed off, turning tomato coloured.

Luna smiled at George and he let her climb out of the cupboard, following her downstairs but turning off into the living room.

Luna loved him.

Luna had kissed him.

He wanted to cry and scream and laugh and kiss her more – all for good reasons. Staring out of the window so nobody could see the smile he waited for Luna to finish talking to Molly.

'George.'

Angelina, by the sound of things. But she could go away and stop disturbing his thoughts.

'George!'

He ignored the call.

'George! Listen to me!'

The only reason he turned round was because the talking in the kitchen had stopped and Luna was returning by the sound of things.

'OUCH!' George gasped; for Angelina had slapped him hard on the face. 'What the HELL are you doing?'

She had dragged him over to the mistletoe before he could even retaliate, and her mouth was on his within seconds, kissing him hungrily. George wrestled with her, trying to stop her from grabbing his face in some sick parallel of passion, but Angelina's strong arms and her preparation for this kiss got him nowhere, and whenever George wrestled, she moved with him, making the kiss only look more passionate. He wanted to spit at her, or kick her, or knee her in the stomach, but she was being too forceful for him to move. And that was when Luna walked in.


	8. Chapter 8

'_LUNA, NO!' George screamed, tears flying from his own red eyes as he hurtled through Hogsmeade after Luna. Except it wasn't the Hogsmeade as he knew it, it was the battle stricken version of the village, and spells were firing at the pair of them everywhere. George couldn't afford for Luna to be hurt by Death Eaters. 'I DIDN'T WANT TO KISS HER... SHE FORCED ME.'_

_He shot a glance back at Angelina, who was dodging curses and, physically stronger than the other two put together, was now almost at George's heels again, trying to prevent him from telling the truth to Luna, her face in an expression mixed of urgency and passion. _

'_I DON'T LOVE HER. IT'S YOU I LOVE!'_

_As Luna whipped around, he noticed her own tear-stained face, red eyes mirroring his own. George stopped in amazement. Was she actually going to forgive him? Did she now realise that Angelina had forced him into the kiss on Christmas day after catching him off-guard. But as he stopped to talk to Luna, who was standing with her arms wide open as if she would embrace him, Angelina came running up from behind and pulled George into yet another kiss, her mouth burning with passion whilst he tried to spit and kick every inch of the woman. What did she want from George? Love in return? Because she would never get it, especially like that. _

'_YOU LIED, YOU LIED TO ME AGAIN,' Luna shreiked as George's eyes welled up again, his arms flailing wildly as he tried to pull Angelina off. She aimed her wand at him and angry sparks burst out, sienging the ends of George's red hair, which was becoming too long. He struggled harder, but the more he tried to kick and yell at Angelina, the stronger she became, and the more tangled he felt in her arms. It was becoming painful when a larger THUD broke him away from her enough for him to slip away and closer to Luna, who was screaming and wailing._

'YOU SAID YOU WERE SORRY. YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T LOVE HER!' Luna screamed and cried like a person being tortured as her face turned red, 'Goodbye, George,' came the final snarl as her cold eyes looked into his wet brown ones. She turned and started to run to the castle as Angelina faded away.

'_NO, LUNA, COME BACK!' He followed her. _

_And suddenly they were through the wrecked grounds and in the castle. Fred was there too now, alongside George as they both ran towards the flying blonde hair that was Luna's head._

_A passing Death Eater held his wand up and aimed at Luna, George firing a curse to protect her and defeat the still masked Death Eater. But both curses missed, the death eater one hitting Fred right in the heart, and George's own hitting Luna. Both bodies flopped to the floor like rag dolls; Fred's showing only an expression of slight shock whilst Luna's was still wet with tears. All four eyes were empty, staring into the star flecked sky._

'_FRED, NO. LUNA, NO,' George screamed louder than he ever knew he could, sinking onto the stone floor as the world crumbled around him. The only sounds that filled his head were the final words of Fred and Luna's piercing scream, now sending him a new message._

'_YOU KILLED ME, GEORGE. YOU KILLED US BOTH.'_

_And George looked up to see Angelina, grinning sadiastically as she grabbed George's wrists and attemping to pull him away from the bodies of two people that meant to world to him. He clung to the nearer body – Luna's – like a lifeline, but Angelina was yanking and he was screaming._

'_NO, FRED. NO, LUNA. MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT END.'_

With another thud, George awoke, layed on the carpet of his small room in the flat about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. A beater's bat – one that previously had been on the table alongside all the clutter of the room – lay by his head. George deduced he'd managed to pull it off the table and onto his bed in the thrashing of the recurring nightmare; his head was throbbing and felt slightly swollen.

'Fred? Luna?' George whispered for the two people he needed more than anything in the world right then. But Fred was dead and had been for over a year and Luna had left him after the forced kiss from Angelina on Christmas day. Rage boiled up inside as the events played through George's mind for what was probably the millionth time.

'Damn,' George muttered, springing the arrival of a lot of ruder curses as he remembered the day. The NEWT results would come today, meaning Ginny and Luna would set off on their journey to the US. George himself had never travelled there and had no intention to except to be with Luna. But she didn't want to see him any more and that was just stalking, to follow her. He needed to learn to let go to Luna. And to Fred.

'George. George?'

An arm reached out and shook him vigourously, the person shaking him's warm breath on his face, preventing him from getting the air he was gasping for into his lungs.

'YOU!' He screamed, looking up and placing the voice with the face looming over him. Angelina. How dare she? How did she even get into the flat? Only George and the Weasleys had keys. And Verity. Verity; of course she had access to the shop, which had doubled up as a storage space when the shop was running. She had been a colleague until the three of them had fled from Death Eaters, her to a member of her own family. But she had still managed to help any way she could. She knew about Fred's death, of course; she'd been to his funeral. But she didn't know about Angelina and what she'd done. Barely anyone did. And if Angeina had come and told Verity some made up sob story about George needed her desperatly, Verity would have handed over her key without a second thought, for George's sake. After all, the last she knew, the twins were close friends with Angelina and the two women had met several times. But things had changed drastically.

'OUT. GET OUT,' George screamed, thrashing out at the girl who had taken his only hope away with her own greed. But before his hand had ever struck the cheek he was aiming for, Angelina had pulled the stopper out of an unlabelled bottle and had poured the contents down George's throat, taking advantage of his mouth which was still open from all the shouting.

The liquid tasted vaguely familiar and before he'd even tried to work out when and where it was from, Angelina had dived away and was standing in the doorway, surveying George and his mess of a bedroom with her dark eyes.

'What was that?' He scowled, in too much shock that she had managed to force him the potion to stay angry. He was weak, but were his defences really that low?

'Calming draught,' she replied cooly, expression unreadable.

George was still angry, but the large amount of potion that had entered his body was already working its magic and he couldn't even move into a sitting postion or get up to give Angelina the punching she deserved.

She frowned, looking at George lying on the floor for a few more seconds before turning and leaving the doorway. He could hear her pottering around in the kitchen, clanging mugs and spoons. If she tried to give him a drink of tea, thought George, he'd spit it all over her.

As he stared at the ceiling, unable to more more than the slight shift to get more comfortable, several thoughts penetrated though his head. Where was he now? Aged twenty-one, dependant on someone who probably hated his guts, losing it at anyone and everyone randomly and trying to get back on his feet and run the joke shop he had once co-owned. He knew he had to continue with the shop. For one, he had a minimal number of qualification for any jons. Where would three 'Exceeds Expectation' OWLs get him? And, more importantly, Fred would kill him if his twin ever even considered closing the shop and getting another job. The only thing George would really have any hope in doing would be Quidditch, and he couldn't do that in his current state.

'I got you tea,' Angelina said softly, disturbing his thoughts and entering the room with a large mug and a small pink bottle, which she pushed hastily into the purple bag on her shoulder.

George scowled, not wanting to drink the stupid cow's cup of tea but having no energy to stop her from leaning right over him and lifting the mug to his lips.

'Get. Out.' He snarled, trying not to choke on the tea, which somehow had a similar familiar taste to the potion.

'No, Georgie,' Anglina patted down his sweaty hair and cleared a space on the carpet, sitting down beside him.

To stay with George in this state was something nobody but Luna had dared to do. Angelina had some nerve, doing this after everything, but as she ccarried on pouring the liquid down his slightly lopsided open mouth, he admired her a little for it. She was pretty clever. Attractive too, he thought as she helped him up and took him into the bathroom where he would shower. But why did she still want him if he'd hated her so much?

As George stumbled into the shower he let the warm water run all over his body, forgetting about Angelina and focusing on the day ahead. If it weren't for worries that Mrs Weasley would think he was trying to drown himself, he would have stayed in the shower a lot more; it cleared his mind, allowing him to think and get away from the constant numb feeling for a short while. He could plan, something George did well, him being the master of the plans in larger pranks that needed one. He had experience in finding flaws and predicting how things would work out. And for the first time in a long while, George planned.

An invisibility cloak, that was what he needed. Harry had one, obviously. And he did owe George a favour, he'd given him the Marauders' Map, after all. But if Harry wasn't around, there'd be one from the shop that would last long enough before the charm wore off.

By the time he was out of the shower and hunting for a towel, Angelina was banging on the door and saying she needed to leave for work, but she would cook George breakfast first. He didn't really want to eat, but if he tried to rid of Angelina now she might get mad at him. For some strange reason, that was one of the last things George wanted.

'George!' She hammered on the door as he hopped around, trying to find a shirt in the jumble of clothes that practically lived in there, 'do you want bacon or not?'

'I don't mind,' he said, preoccupied by working out whether it was bad to hope Ginny did badly in her NEWTs, making her unable to go on the around the world trip with Luna, meaning maybe Luna wouldn't go.

'Well, I'll cook some anyway,' she muttered, returning to the kitchen.

When he entered the kitchen, she was standing over the oven with a large frying pan in hand, making the largest breakfast he'd ever seen.

'I know you want to see your sister,' she said in a buisnesslike way, apparently not noticing George's staring. He still couldn't work out whether or not he was angry or admiring her. 'But you need to have some food.'

The potion was still in control, allowing Angelina to half-push him into a chair and place a large amount of food in front of him. He couldn't eat, churned up with feelings of confusion. Would Luna surely leave? Would she ever speak to him again? Had he ruined her life? And the part of George's mind that was still angry was burning to understand why he was letting Angelina act like this, especially in his own home.

'Back in a minute,' he muttered, unable to stare at the greasy food for fear of being sick and bolting down to the stock room, pushing open the door which was already ajar. He knew someone had been in from the way things had been thrown everywhere. Things that had been replaced and mended since the Death Eaters had come, but George was low on time and could do nothing more than grab the nearest invisibility cloak, stuff it up the shirt he was wearing, shout a casual goodbye to Angelina and floo himself to The Burrow from the fireplace there.

'George!'

'George, dear, how nice to see you, have a drink.'

Family buzzed around him the second he entered the fireplace in the living room and what felt like a sea of Weasleys carried him into the kitchen. Molly was at her usual spot in front of the oven, and Ginny was grinning, a letter in her hand.

'How did you do?' George forced himself to smile down at his little sister who was buzzing with excitement. It was then that George realised how young she was, barely even 18, and that she was his little sister. For a long time, age hadn't really meant anything; the better someone's state had been, the older they were, making him practically a baby. But George would never stop being her big brother and he felt a pang of guilt from neglecting that so much.

'Five 'Exceeds Expectations' and one 'Outstanding',' she beamed, hugging George.

He didn't flinch away. She deserved this hug and the results, especially after everything she'd been through.

'Wow,' he said quietly, 'that's so much better than me and...'

He trailed off, feeling either himself or Ginny become more tense in the hug as a lump formed in his throat.

'Breakfast, George?' Molly picked up the slip of the tongue George almost made and hastily changed the subject, something that wasn't needed thanks to the natural diversion seconds later.

As he shook his head and made up some story about already eating, Ginny let out another shriek, causing everyone in the room to wince slightly.

'Luna's here!' She beamed, running out into the garden where, sure enough, Luna Lovegood had literally ran into the garden.

George took in her apparence. She looked happy enough, excited for the trip, but still almost as thin as she had been this time last year, but bright orange in apparence. Orange dress and shoes, she looked as though she was a product of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Bright, lively and colourful. Getting the choked up feeling he always got after thinking of Luna, but multiplied by thousands, George retreated to a corner of the kitchen, wanting to see her more than anything but terrified she would get greatly upset by his presence.

'Luna dear, how are you?' Molly smiled, knowing she didn't even need to send her son a warning look as Luna entered the kitchen. 'Would you like some breakfast?'

He wanted to kiss her and apologise all over again, but George was frozen to the spot, staring at her in a lost way. Did she still think about him like he did about her? Or did she just love him because of pity?

Luna and Mrs Weasley chatted in a friendly way, Luna looking as though she wanted to avert her eyes from George, but shooting him the occasional glance, every one of which he noticed and tried to analyse.

'So how did you do Luna?' Charlie grinned. George frowned ever so slightly. Was Charlie still trying, after everything?

'All Os except for one E in potions,' she said proudly, to congratulations from all the Weasleys.

George was impressed to say the least. How she had managed to do that well at school was unimaginable, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything to her. He was worried she'd get upset again, so he disappeared upstairs, knowing that if the tears came out downstairs, it'd look just like he was appealing for attention in a childish way, something that he really wasn't intending to do.

In his bedroom, George took the invisibility cloak from under his shirt and put it on, daring to glance in the mirror to make sure he was fully concealed. He wouldn't let Luna see him at all, until possibly at the PortKey Station, if things seemed right. But they never did anymore. Charlie and Luna were downstairs in the kitchen still; he was going back to Romania whilst they travelled to America. Whatever rubbish he made up about missing the dragons, George knew it was because there was no point in him staying behind without Luna. It was obvious he fancied her and she didn't feel the same way, so why didn't he just leave it? But then, why didn't George just leave his feelings or her alone? It was easier said than done.

Something clicked in George's head and he threw off the cloak, half diving across the room for a quill and parchment that lay on the windowsill. If his plan worked, he wouldn't get to say a proper goodbye to Luna, just see her. On the other hand, he didn't just have to use the cloak later, he could easily slip her a note. Not that he knew what to put, but something would have to come, thought George, as he picked up the parchment.

_Luna,_

_I wanted to say a proper goodbye to you before you went. But... after everything, that hasn't been possible. I hope you and Ginny have a great time on your trip and that maybe we can talk afterwards. Well done on your NEWTs too._

_George_

He folded the note, knowing it was brief and not anything special, but feeling a little better nonetheless.

The faint sound of the floo could be heard downstairs, Luna was probably getting her bags.

'George?'

Molly walked in, folding a duvet cover neatly with her wand. George half jumped as he slipped the note into the pocket of his cloak.

'George, can we talk?'

He nodded, knowing she would either way and both sat down on opposite beds, George looking at his golden watch, a little worried about the time.

'I know it's difficult for you, what with Luna, Ginny and Charlie leaving today,' she began, looking at him as she would a sick person, 'they're the ones that have helped the most.'

_Luna _had helped the most. Ginny... well, George felt bad relying on her. And Charlie was almost as pratty as Percy these days. Almost.

'But if you need someone to talk to, I'm still here,' she smiled, squeezing his hand.

'I'm fine, Mum, honestly,' he attempted a smile back, reaching for the cloak, which looked like an ordinary one, and standing up, 'I'll sort myself out, eventually.'

'That's my George,' Molly smiled again, standing up patting her taller son on the arm before leaving with her duvet covers.

It was kind of her, thought George as he made his way down the stairs wrapped in the invisibility cloak. But he couldn't give his mother anymore problems and it would require too much explaining.

Tasting a last dreg from the tea Angelina had given him that morning in his mouth, George decided he might talk to her at some point, about Fred and everything. There wasn't much chance with Luna now.

Charlie was standing outside the kitchen, waiting for Luna.

'Creep,' George muttered immaturely as his older brother entered to talk to her.

Pulling out an extendable ear and placing the end into his only ear left – Fred had always joked they filled George's hole with an extendable ear – he leant closer to the door to listen.

Whilst Charlie made up soppy rubbish about dragons, George hung onto Luna's every word, wishing she could talk to him like that, even if it was with the sad tone she took with his brother. Charlie was taking them to the Portkey station... That was just great. He was so _hopeful, _it was actually painful. But with a sharp pang, George reminded himself he was probably the same, although at least Luna once had mutual feelings for him.

'Maybe, maybe not but either way I wish you all the best luck back in Romania.' Luna replied to something Charlie had said as a gust of wind from an open window in the kitchen blew the door open.

George knew his cue, slipping in through the open door to see Luna and Charlie alone in the kitchen, him looking hopeful and her clearly ignoring or not picking up his signs. He jumped onto the worktop and sat on it as Charlie shut the door against the rest of the house.

'You will write to me, won't you?' He asked worriedly. George wished he could ask her the same.

'Would you like me to write?'

'When you have the time. I'd like to be your friend, even if we have a long distance relationship.'

_Relationship? _Yeah, the kind that meant them kissing for long hours, George thought bitterly.

'Then I will write to you Charlie,' she took her wand out of her hair (a very Luna-esque thing to do, but something Mad-Eye would despise) and tucked it in a pocket, Charlie still practically dribbling over her.

'I'm here!' Ginny beamed, running into the room, Harry at her heels with a trunk in his arms.

'If you don't mind, I'll come with you to the Station and then I'll just apparate back here when you're all gone,' Harry told Luna and Charlie. He'd been sticking to Ginny a lot recently and Ron seemed to get a lot of enjoyment making wild guesses about their relationship status.

'Of course mate.'

Charlie clapped Harry on the back and almost sent him flying. Somehow, throughout everything, Charlie was the only Weasley who hadn't lost any weight from the strain of losing Fred.

'Wait wait wait wait wait! Ginny you forgot your scarf!'

Molly fussed, becoming teary as she said goodbye to Ginny. She'd not been any better when Fred and George told her they were leaving The Burrow to live above their shop, but she couldn't stop any of them now they were of age.

George knew it was his only chance of saying a proper goodbye to Luna when he swept past his mother and sister and pushed the note into Luna's pocket, trying to stay as quiet as possible as Charlie was distracted by something outside. Luna moved slightly as he moved away again, but either hadn't noticed or refrained from checking her pocket, sparing George the worry of Charlie seeing the note he'd given her.

'Luna?' Charlie said, taking her hand as Ginny held his free one. George placed a hand lightly on Luna's cloak, knowing he had to apparate with them or be stuck in limbo with no clue of where he was going.

Noise erupted around George as the four of them appeared in the PortKey Station with a familiar _crack_. The room was large and filled with people talking loudly, some knowing where they were going and some hopelessly asking others for directions. Cats hissed and owls screeched. A map moved beneath George's invisible feet and he knew he had to be careful being invisible in a crowd that large.

From the speed Charlie was dragging Luna and his sister, George knew there was nothing for it but to let go, rather than be tripped over by someone. Instead, he followed behind, sneaking over trunks and around families to keep up with Charlie's muscular arms.

'Okay ladies, your Portkey leaves in bay 7C which is actually just over there,' Charlie pointed to a screened of area 30 feet away from them that had a golden 7C painted on one of the screens. 'And it goes in twenty minutes so we better get a move on.'

At that point Charlie had to leave them. George watched him let go of Luna's hand reluctantly with a bit of a smirk on his face, despite feeling sick doing so. It was easy slipping past the security men and following Luna and Ginny towards a large metal coach.

'I thought we were taking a portkey?' Luna seemed as confused as George at the large metal coach.

'I think this is the portkey,' Ginny replied, dragging her bags towards a woman who seemed in charge of everyone's luggage, 'come on.'

The woman looked like a plastic doll George had once seen in a muggle shop. Blonde. _Too_ smiley, with a body that was a little too perfect to match. But with a bored look in her eyes which took away all of her good features.

'Excuse me,' Ginny asked her politely. 'But we've never been here before. Why is there a coach?'

'The coach is the portkey. It's a safer way of getting a lot of wizards from one country to another inconspicuously,' the woman replied, her glossy voice sounding bored and cold.

'Thank-you,' Ginny attempted to keep from scowling as the pair handed over their bags and walked towards the coach.

The platform which they had been stood on was almost empty except for George, several security wizards and a mother who seemed to be seeing two of her children off, another on her hip and one playing with the hem of her robes. She obviously had more reason than Charlie to continue right to the coach.

The last old warlock had just entered the coach when George spotted Luna and Ginny. Luna was facing George's invisible self right out of the window almost as if she could see him. Almost as if it was a natural reflex, George pulled the cloak off to reveal his eyes as he stared into Luna's. Would he really manage with her thousands of miles away?

She pressed a hand to the window, trapped inside her little metal box which was crowded and noisy, but seeing only him.

'Luna,' he mouthed, trembling slightly but trying his hardest not to cry.

'George,' she mouthed back, the words barely leaving her lips before the coach faded away.

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><p>Please review? It's just one little button to click and some words to type<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 :D Please, please review. I will give you cookies and fireworks ^-^**

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><p>'George? George! Let me in!'<p>

Percy hammered on the door. George sighed, what did Percy want now? It had already been a busy day, for him at least, with Angelina coming round for the usual breakfast and staying a lot longer than planned and a visit from Verity, who was now dating someone George vaguely recalled covering in slime at some point of Hogwarts. He really didn't have time for house guests, especially the kind that nagged about sleep and lectured him about everything, like Percy. But there was an unusual tone of urgency in Percy's voice that set off natural curiosity in George.

'George, please?'

Figuring it would take a lot of ignoring for Percy to leave, he sighed, dropping a long sheet of parchment - which was filled with scribbly notes – on the floor and got up to open the door for Percy.

'Perce- what?'

The only reaction to Percy that George could find was shock. His older, neat, tidy and correct brother was standing in the doorway, clutching a piece of moist parchment like a lifeline. His eyes were bloodshot, but not from tiredness. The smell of alcohol crept into the room as Percy started speaking rapidly.

'Where d'you keep Firewhisky?' He demanded, pushing past his stunned brother, who snatched the parchment to read for himself. Percy stormed into the kitchen and started tearing it apart, in apparent search for alcohol. It took a few seconds for George to realise that the paper he was holding was a letter, addressed not to Percy, but a couple called Mr and Mrs Clearwater. The name s rang a bell. Didn't Percy once have a girlfriend with that name? A muggleborn who was petrified in George's fourth year? The memory and the official Minister's seal did not give a good feeling:

_12__th__May 1998_

Dear Mr and Mrs Clearwater,

_I take deepest regret in informing you that in the past events of the year and the uprising of dark magic, your daughter, Miss Penelope's blood status was at stake and she was send to the wizarding prison, Azkaban. During the reign of dark magic and the Ministry's inability to take action, your daughter passed away within the prison sometime in the last month. All members of the wizarding community linked to this death have been placed in Azkaban themselves and your daughter was found to be innocent. Due to this, the Ministry of Magic...  
><em>  
>That had explained enough; Penelope Clearwater was put in Azkaban for being a muggleborn and had died before they could get her out. A knot tightened in George's stomach as he cast his mind back to those times and, more specifically, the battle. But the date was over a year ago. Why had Percy only just recieved the letter? Scanning the rest of the writing for clue, George noticed a small note scribbled at the bottom:<p>

_Percy, it's only just been cleared that this information is allowed out into the wizarding world by Ms Clearwater's parents, and contact details have been difficult to locate, not to mention the amount of work the Ministry have been keeping up with, but I heard from someone you might need to know this._

_-Kingsley_

Most of the words on the page were smudged with tears, but from the sound of Percy, there was no good news on it.

'I KILLED HER,' he screamed from the kitchen, 'I KILLED HER AND I KILLED FRED.'

The name hit George like a shot – as it always did – and he bolted into the direction of Percy.

'I killed them both...' he whispered, finishing a glass of Firewhisky, bottle in his other hand.

George was amazed; he'd never seen Percy drink before. Or in this much of a state. Not even when Fred died. George didn't even know that there was alcohol in the house, but Percy seemed to have found some.

'Perce...' George snatched Percy's arm and pulled him onto the mess of a sofa, snatching the bottle and almost taking a swig himself before remembering Angelina's warning about alcohol. She'd told George not to drink it for some reason that had now escaped him, but he didn't want to upset her by drinking. Not that talking to Percy would help; he wasn't exactly sober anymore. A lot of old Firewhisky, no food in his stomach and being pretty lightweight with little experience in drinking, Percy was a drunk as a skunk and not in great shape for it.

'What happened?' George asked, staring at Percy. He knew it was a useless question, but continued nonetheless.

'I KILLED BOTH OF THEM.'

George tried to respond, but was still toying with the idea of whether to blame Percy or not. Percy grabbed an old photo of him and Fred from the mess around George's feet, looking at the scowl Percy had and Fred's grinning face. The fact that George wasn't in it probably meant he'd taken the picture.

Fingering the glass frame carefully for a second with his mouth slightly open, something jerked in Percy's head and he made a sudden movement.

_SMASH_

He'd lobbed the photo and frame across the room and it had smashed against the wall, bits of glass flying everywhere.

'IT'S MY FAULT.'

The glass lay on the floor, several pieces stuck in the wall. Throwing the photo of Fred churned something up inside George and he didn't even have to think as the words came out of his mouth.

'WELL, MAYBE YOU DID KILL THEM,' He screamed, running at the wall and grabbing the photo, the glass cutting his hands. Anger from everything boiled up inside of him, 'BUT IT'S TOO LATE NOW.'

Percy, who had fallen to the floor, got up to his feet, a little dazed at George's shouting and staggering across the room.

'I KILLED THEM,' Percy yelled, seemingly unable to say anything else.

'Perce... leave it...'

But Percy wasn't listening. He was heading towards the fireplace where more photos of Fred were, looking dazed and out of it as he ran.

The photo was still in George's hand as he jumped to his feet, almost instinctively running towards Percy and seizing him under the arms as Percy started slamming his head against the wall, words flowing into screams.

Percy flailed and kicked as he was dragged away, evidently seeing something George couldn't.

'I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY.'

It was getting worrying now, seeing Percy in such a state, thanks to the alcohol. Percy shuddered for a second, flinching and going still. George took it as an opportunity to loosen his grip, but he knew it was a mistake the minute Percy wriggled away.

'NO, NO, NO.'

George could only watch – rooted to the spot – as Percy sprinted towards the fireplace again, falling in and hitting his head on the iron back with a large thud before lying deathly still, hair that was once neat a mess over his bruised forehead, floo dust sparkling on his pale face.

'I'm so proud, Georgie. You did the right thing for poor Percy,' Angelina shut the door to Percy's room a exaggerated look of pity before snaking her arms around George. They'd been in the hospital for what felt like an age, waiting for the rest of the family to arrive – including Luna and Ginny. George smiled; Angelina had been around for the usual morning coffee and breakfast, something which he enjoyed so much it usually ending up in Angelina hanging around all day, making cups of coffee and talking. A lot of talking. But when Angelina was there, it was like a light was on in George's life and he could smile and laugh and push things out of his mind.

'Open up,' Angelina smiled, the pair oblivious to half of the Weasleys watching them, open mouthed. Sure, George had been mourning Luna only weeks ago. But Angelina was _fun_, and he liked her a lot in more than one way.

George obeyed and she pushed a small cupcake into his mouth, coffee flavoured. It had the same familiar taste as all her cooking, but he figured that was probably just coffee. The stuff was addictive. She was one of the few that could make him eat.

'Taste good?'

'Mmmm, very good,' he smiled, swallowing and planting a kiss on her nose. It was those moments when he wanted to be all over Angelina... And she obviously felt the same way, George knew, as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a kiss.

He kissed back, the world disappearing around him as he ran a hand through her long hair. They didn't notice Molly gaping, or Arthur blinking in disbelief whilst Harry tried to force conversation with Ron, neither of them managing more than a sentence. And George certainly didn't notice Luna and Ginny arriving, travel worn and sleepy from behind the glass doors.

But Angelina was_ fun. _And _attractive. _It wasn't exactly official, but from the feeling of things, they were going out, which meant trips together to see Percy, who was practically ill with guilt as well as the fact had ran head-first into George's fireplace.

George smiled at Angelina as his little sister gaped from a distance. He was in a trance, hypnotised by her as Angelina stared pointedly at Luna, crumpling Luna's letters to George and his to her in the back of her jeans pocket, a slight scowl on her face.

A young Healer walked through the room where George and Angelina were now sat, her balancing on his lap. He shot the pair a disapproving look. That kind of... kissing probably wasn't acceptable in a hospital, only a couple of doors away from a very ill Percy, but they had been _asked _to stay and how could George help being in love?

Untangling himself from Angelina and wondering what the Healer wanted – whether Percy was ready to see them yet – but the young man turned straight to Luna, who stood out like anything in the mass of ginger heads.

It'd been hard to talk to Angelina about only one thing. If the word Luna was brought up, she would scowl, keeping her answers as short as possible and making it blindingly obvious that she wanted a change in subject – and fast. For that reason, George could only stare after Luna as the healer led her to Percy before the rest of them. Ungluing himself from Angelina – a difficult task – George passed back through the glass door.

'George!'

Ginny half smiled as he walked back into the main room – Angelina still behind the glass, her face not visible. She looked older than ever, despite the fact George had only gone for months without seeing her.

Mrs Weasley and Ginny shuffled along the sofa to make room for George, who sat back down, looking from his father to Harry and Ron. Nobody, except for George, was really sure what had happened when Percy had fallen headfirst into the fireplace, but they all had the inkling that Percy could easily have died and that George's immediate reaction was to floo his broken brother straight to Mungo's.

'Mr and Mrs Weasley? Your son would like to speak to the rest of the family now.'

Molly and George's heads snapped up instantaneously as the nervous Healer shot glances around the room, his eyes lingering on Harry, who muttered something to Ron and slid off the seat. As Harry retreated from the room, the party stood up warily, Angelina coming through the glass doors and attaching her arm to George's.

Ron frowned at Angelina as the young man led them through doors and corridors that all had the same, meaningless hospital look about them.

'He's in a better state now,' the Healer nodded, seemingly scared by the mass of Weasleys and Angelina in front of him.

Percy was still in bed, sitting up and looking a lot healthier than he had done smashed into George's fireplace. But still broken, there was no denying it. He was burnt, scratched and bruised with bloodshot eyes, but as his mother walked in, Percy attempted a weak smile, which was broken by her outcry and the hug she through around him. He winced, unable to move away, but she got the message, taking his hand.

'George.'

Percy's expression was unreadable as George untangled himself from Angelina and perched on the end of Percy's bed.

'I'm sorry...'

And more than he'd ever done, Percy genuinely meant it. George swallowed back whatever emotion tried to take control and tried to speak.

'It wasn't you,' he shook his head. Everything in the room seemed to dim slightly as he looked from Percy to the photo of Fred that was just visibly sticking out under his pillow, 'It wasn't your fault.'

'But it was,' Percy shook his head weakly, 'because if I wasn't there and you were, then it wou-'

Being the stronger one for what seemed like the first time in years, George slid the photo out and looked at it, face wavering between a smile and tears.

'Don't blame yourself... Please, Perce.'

Tears leaked from Percy's eyes and Molly started to mop them gently, looking at her two sons and sighing.

'I should go,' George nodded eventually, unable to stand the tension any longer. Angelina nodded in agreement, holding out a hand for him. She constantly wanted to be glued to him now, something that he didn't mind, but had never before seen quite like that in someone.

'Are you coming back?' Percy whispered, still looking scarily unlike himself.

George managed half a nod before Angelina grabbed his hand and whisked him out of the room, pulling him into another kiss. The nervous healer, who seemed to be wandering around the corridors, jumped, his face startled by the pair. George grinned sheepishly, mumbling something vaguely apologetic before whisking them out of the building.

Orange.

Pretty much all George could see, with the exception of a splash of purple or green. It always had been their favourite colour, so painting the entire shop with it seemed the right thing to do.

Angelina was painting shelves purple, Ron and Bill both looking as orange as George as they helped with the final coats of paint before restocking the shelves. Excited voices buzzed around the room, Fleur occasionally squealing as she opened a product which fought back. They'd been waiting for this day for a long time, George the most, and it was finally the day Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes re-opened, with the help of Angelina, family, friends and, what seemed like hundreds of years ago, Luna.

George was so distracted with Angelina and the shop and his improving life that he barely had time to think about Luna anymore, not that he really had many thoughts about her. She was practically a figment of his imagination nowadays, so seeing her in Mungo's was a slight shock.

He wasn't quite sure what tore them apart, because they had been good friends at one point. The time closer to Fred's death was just a blur of long, grey months of nothingness which all blended together, but Luna often stood out in these memories.

He'd tried asking Angelina once, still unsure of what really happened between them, but she had become angry and cold. He just tried to block her from his mind, along with the questions about her attitude to him. But it was difficult, and too much so.

'Looks good, George.'

Ron grinned and patted his brother on the back encouragingly, grinning. He'd been on a strange high for a while, and everyone guessed it was something to do with Hermione.

George nodded and stood back to admire the shop in its entirety. Fireworks whizzed around happily and the place was once again filled with the excitement it once had. It'd taken a lot of time and effort, not just from George, but it was worth it.

'I like it,' Verity grinned from the till. She had her back to George, and was up to something that meant he wasn't allowed anywhere near him for several hours, a large cloth concealing whatever she was doing. 'I like it a lot.'

He half-smiled around the room. For once, something had been worth the pain and stress. And it felt good.

'He'd be proud, George,' Bill stood at his other side and joined in with the crowd of smiling Weasleys. Angelina was over by Verity, helping her add the final touches, 'which brings me to what Verity's doing...'

Both brothers prodded George over gently to the till, whilst Angelina and Verity whisked the sheet away.

Fred was grinning at him.

George gasped. What seemed like a million faces of Fred and himself and friends and the rest of the Weasleys grinned across at him, some waving and laughing. Every photo of Fred and George that anyone owned had been duplicated and stuck on the wall behind the till, covering it entirely. And right in the middle was a large picture of Fred, grinning across at his twin as he had always done.

Tears sparkled in his eyes as they stared at each other, Angelina looping an arm around his waist and squeezing his hand. And for the first time in a long, long while George felt happy.

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><p><strong>REVIEEEEEEW <strong>

***crazed writer face***


	10. Chapter 10

'I love her, Fred, I really do.'

Unsurprisingly, the gravestone said nothing in response, but George knew exactly what Fred _would _have said in response, which would certainly have come with his trademark smirk.

George played with the ring box in his pocket. They'd been together over a year now, and it was finally time that they stopped being boy and girlfriend and he actually _proposed_ to Angelina.

'I just don't know how,' he sighed slightly, crouching down as though Fred was sitting on his grave, listening to George's every word, 'you'd know Fred... You could tell me exactly how.' His fingers traced over the various marks George had carved into the stone.

_Merry Christmas, Freddie. 25/12/1998._

Christmas of '98. The one where... Where... Something about Angelina kissing him for the first time. But also something about a kiss with Luna, which was worrying... When had he ever had anything with Luna, except for the fact she'd helped him in those months after Fred's death?

He hadn't seen Luna for at least a year, if not longer. She'd been at the opening at the shop, stood in the crowd with some man George had never seen. But since then, Angelina seemed to want to keep him away. Maybe there'd been some kind of argument that was only long forgotten in his eyes.

George looked at the golden watch that had managed to stay intact through all the explosions Fred and George had once made and frowned, Angelina was coming over in an hour, which seemed a long time but really wasn't when he had to make himself look decent and not puffy-eyed. AND clear up their drinks from earlier. AND sort out some kind of food. An hour really wasn't much.

'I've gotta go, Fred... Maybe when you next see me I'll be engaged. Marrying's a scary thought.' He half grimaced, rubbing his eyes furiously as he turned on the spot, apparating away.

Bill raised a ginger eyebrow, soapy water dripping onto his hand as he supervised the washing up in George's flat. His little brother was half-crawling around the room, humming something mushy-sounding as he picked up stray pieces of paper and cleaned with magic. Angelina never seemed too pleased if the place was a complete tip, and although she didn't mind a little mess, it would be nice to propose in a room that wasn't cluttered with stuff.

'George... Are you humming?' He turned around, absently playing with his wedding ring and smiling slightly.

George shrugged.

'Maybe, what's it to you?'

'Haven't done for a while...' Bill trailed off. They both knew that a while meant since before Fred's death, and he couldn't help but be pleased at the fact his little brother was back on his feet again.

'Bill?' George looked up from behind the sofa, still in manic tidying mode, 'what's it like being married?'

The elder brother leant against the counter, inspecting the ends of his ponytail for a second. What was George trying to get at?

'It's great,' he grinned, nodding.

George rolled his eyes.

'Bet the French trained you to say that one.'

Bill laughed and shook his head, showing the long scars across his cheeks, 'it is, it really is, you've just got to be prepared to share everything.'

That was true. Fleur had the talent of making him admit everything and anything.

'Everything.'

The two made eye contact and Bill pulled George into a quick hug, pleased he didn't squirm away, for the first time in what seemed like forever.

'It's worth it, George, honestly.'

George forced a nod. He'd shared everything with Fred for twenty years, have to have everything for a short amount of time, but would be sharing again now. With someone who was practically a stranger compared to how well he knew Fred.

'Good luck,' Bill grinned eventually, letting go of George and looking him up and down, 'honestly, I can't imagine you being married.'

'Neither can I,' he smiled, clutching the ring box in his pocket. It was time for something else to go right, for once.

'I'm off now, the French are making something posh for dinner,' he winked, walking over to the fireplace and running a thumb over the marks from Percy's accident.

Grinning, George gave the flat one last sweeping look and waved goodbye to Bill, walking into his bedroom.

A grey blanket hung over the large mirror in the bedroom, like they did for every mirror in the flat. Each mirror was a reminder of Fred every time George walked past. But it was time to move on, to stop flinching every time he saw himself, to get up and live normally, even if it hurt and he did have bad days. Angelina had said he was finally reaching acceptance. And that came with uncovering the dusty mirrors and smiling once in a while. Nobody said it was easy, but maybe it was possible.

He whisked away the blanket, clutching it and staring at the single figure. Surely he was recovering... The bags under his eyes less dramatic and his complexion less pale. His eyes that were bloodshot from crying were still red, but they surely hurt less.

'Can't mess it up tonight,' he muttered into the mirror, and could have sworn he felt something brush past his head almost in a reply.

'George?' A rapid knock sounded at the door and Angelina's voice sounded high pitched; excited.

George started into the mirror, forcing a lopsided smile to spread across his face. He'd ruined too many moments. Now wouldn't be one.

'Coming?'

'George! You look great,' Angelina grinned, sailing in, bottle of wine in her hand.

He couldn't help but gape. Her usually braided hair was long and wavy, flowing down her back, contrasting with the short purple dress which shimmered in the light of the room. She looked... radiant, there wasn't really any other word. And she was smiling, which topped the whole thing off.

'You look...' George grinned and pulled her into a kiss, whirling her around the small living room.

She giggled, pouring a couple of glasses of wine and handed George one, not touching her own. Why did all her food and drink have the same familiar taste? It wasn't bad, just something he could never quite put a finger on. And it raised a fair amount of curiosity.

She waved her wand and the room turned darker, candles appearing on the small tables by the sofa, illuminating the images of Fred, Angelina and the Weasleys that lived on them. George smiled, thankful that she could understand that kind of thing, something which was totally impossible for him to understand. She just _knew_ how George wanted the room for the proposal, even if he didn't.

'Ange...' he smiled, putting down the glass carefully and looking into her deep brown eyes.

They were dark, almost black, but with flecks of chocolate. He was close enough to count every single one of them and she was leaning in, his arms snaking around her waist as her own reached for his hair, running her slender fingers through it as they entwined, lips meeting...

...

It was now or never, they'd kissed, drunk and anything beyond now might be taken by Angelina as something under the influence of alcohol. The candles still flickered and the sky outside was pitch black except for the stars which pierced it. Angelina had flung the curtains open at an earlier point, almost exactly at twilight, bathing the room in a little more light.

George grinned across at Angelina, who was playing absently with the necklace he had bought her. She looked happier than he'd ever seen her... And he was about to increase that, if things went to plan.

'I love you, George,' she smiled, eyes flitting from the necklace, to the wine glasses, to George.

'I love you too,' he slid off the sofa, kneeling in front of her on the floor. She paused, raising a neat eyebrow at his position.

George didn't notice the sharp intake of breath as he changed his position to one knee. He didn't see Angelina carefully push something further into her bag, and he certainly missed the look that flitted into her eyes for half a second, the dark, cold kind that Luna had seen on the first Christmas without Fred.

'Angelina, will you marry me?'

The next few days were a blur. Angelina's constant elation added spirit to everything including George, and Verity had been tactful enough not to point out that this was not necessarily the best thing. He was literally head over heels, but one sharp blow could bring it down. As George raced about the shop, helping customers, there were three pairs of watchful eyes on him.

Angelina, craving his constant attention. George loved her, even her flaws, but being perfectly honest, deep down, she could be a little... forceful. On the night of their engagement, she had somehow persuaded him into sleeping with her, which, for some reason, George wasn't as open to as she'd expected. She'd later made some excuse about excitement and alcohol which George, lovesick, had bought; there was a ring on her finger, smile on her face and he was in love. The whole thing seemed to work.

Verity, on the other hand, had been almost politely sceptical about the whole engagement; she was one of the only few to know, but something about her attitude changed whenever George mentioned Angelina, or she entered a room. He couldn't ask, or do anything, because she was a co-worker and friend, but Verity also seemed to hold a constant suspicion about Angelina which George could not find reason for. She'd mumbled things before but trailed off, stopped by the unplanned arrival of Angelina or muttering that she should keep in her own business. Sometimes she almost seemed nervous around George, but with the rush of everything else, he could push any feelings about this to the back of his mind.

The final person watching George was Fred, or Fred's portrait. He'd already known about George's plans for engagement and had seemed supportive of them, having no reason for George not loving Angelina. But he too could be seen throwing the occasional odd glance at her late night wanderings in the stock room, or urgent attempts to get products for customers. But she was just a girl, right? A girl who Fred knew was in love with his twin, who was loved in return...

'Geeeeeorge, guess who?'

A pair of slender hands covered his eyes and a high pitched giggle buzzed around his head. She always had so much _energy, _like some kind of playful puppy.

'Could it possibly be Ange?' He grinned, taking one of the hands and kissing it, grinning at the glittering ring.

'How did you know?' Angelina shot a look out of the window into the crowded street, the dark look reappearing in her eyes. Her voice changed, monotonous as he eyes were glued to something on Diagon Alley. 'Customer. Back in a minute.'

George shrugged and stared out the window too, but was distracted by a small, grinning face and the sound of several Skiving Snackboxes being dropped in front of him.

'Blimey, just how many lessons are you planning to skip? Are you even Hogwarts age yet?'

'A fair few,' a young boy grinned, placing a couple of Galleons in George's palm, 'and no, but it's good to get in practice, right? And they'll do great for family visits...'

George laughed the laugh which was once his signature. It still sounded empty with only Fred's portrait to join in, but that was a thousand times better than nothing.

'I like that spirit.'

'Yeah,' grinned Fred's portrait, 'keep that up and you'll be almost professional by age eleven.'

George laughed, the small boy grinning up at them both as he took the pranks.

'Thank you Misters Weasley,' he said, running off to rejoin his mother.

'Misters Weasley?' Angelina smiled, returning to the till and looping an arm around George. Fred muttered something, smirking and averting his eyes as Angelina kissed George passionately. He kissed back almost automatically; she always seemed to be craving _more_.

He stared out the window again, into the gloomy street. An unmissable blonde head was outside the shop, stationary. He knew that face; the wide eyes and pale face with the blank expression. George's eyes locked onto Luna Lovegood's for a split second, and he wanted _her. _Her blonde hair instead of Angelina's dark brown, her own soft lips and her arms around him. And for her to smile.

'George?'

He snapped out of his trance, amazed and a little disgusted by his thoughts. He was marrying _Angelina_, not thinking crazy, impossible thoughts about Luna Lovegood, inventor of crazy.

'Hm?'

She pulled his face away from his view out of the window and Luna disappeared, drifting away behind a taller figure. Angelina smiled, satisfied, as she gave everyone in Diagon Alley perfect view of the ring.

'And are you sure you'll be alright?'

'I'm fine,' George rolled his eyes at his fiancée, kissing her cheek, 'I'm only going back to The Burrow to get some things of ours, I'll be fine,' he nibbled his lip nonetheless. Draining the last of his coffee, he grabbed a handful of floo powder, climbing into the fireplace 'Mum will probably stuff me, so I might be back late.'

He flooed into the living room of The Burrow, Molly looking up and hugging him.

'George! I wasn't expecting you,' she smiled at her son, he looked so much _better_.

'Yeah, just getting some stuff from my bedroom.'

'Right, just don't go into the ki-'

But George hadn't heard, and had flung open the door of the kitchen to find Ginny, Hermione and Luna sitting at the wooden table. George heard his name as he entered, raising an eyebrow.

'You are becoming creepily more and more like Mum each day, little sis,' he said, smiling slightly at his younger sister. Mrs Weasley always seemed to be having talks about George behind his back; Ginny now seemed to be in on the whole thing too.

'That was purely coincidence. What are you even doing here anyway?' She frowned, seemingly annoyed that George had interrupted whatever they were up to.

'I could ask you the same thing,' he grinned.

'I live here, whereas you do not,' she retorted.

'No need to get snappy, sis,' he pulled a face, 'I'm just getting some things stored in ou- my room.'

'Well, hurry up and get out, we're having a private conversation.'

'Okay. Jeez, I'm not even welcome in my childhood home any more...' he continued to the stairs.

'Hi Mione, hey Luna,' his eyes lingered on her for a second longer, curious as to his feelings the other day, but bounding up the stairs as his eyes moved back to Ginny.

It only took a few minutes to gather the few possessions and pranks that George came to collect, but he lingered in the room a lot longer, shooting a glance out of the window before curling up on Fred's old bed for several minutes.

After he couldn't stay in the room any longer, George grabbed the few things and started back down the stairs, a lone couple of tears drifting down his cheeks.

'George...' Ginny began, her face showing nothing but shock as he entered the kitchen. He needed to get out of the house by apparating, if he went into the living room to floo, Molly would... well, mollycoddle.

He raced out of the room, almost running into Luna's long blonde hair as she disappeared with a loud crack.

'How's everything?'

The portrait beamed down at George. The two faces were slowly becoming less similar as George aged.

'Good,' George nodded, smiling at his twin's image, 'Ange and I have been talking about the wedding...'

Her giggling rang out from the stock room, which both twins turned to face.

'Which reminds me,' Fred grinned, 'Verity was complaining about the lack of love potions in there, you may want to restock.' He winked.

George nodded, making a mental note to ask Angelina, who practically ruled the stock room nowadays.

Fred beamed. 'She does spend a lot of time in there... But enough of her, it's all we ever talk about these days,' he rolled his eyes and George laughed slightly, genuinely glad of a chance to focus on something else.

'How's Percy? The prat getting back to his old self?'

'He's changed a lot, actually,' George smiled... 'We all have.'

'Yeah, you the most, ugly old man,' Fred smirked.

'Oi,' George stuck his tongue out, 'only by a couple of years.'

'Here comes trouble,' Fred smirked, dropping his comeback as Angelina jumped out of the stock cupboard and bounded towards George, pulling him into another kiss.

Fred made retching noises and rolled his eyes, hiding behind his frame, but his face was creeping into a smile as he watched his younger brother properly, actually happy.

Angelina smiled, arms around her husband-to-be, but mind still in the stock room, watching over her precious love potions...

'Ange...'

A large crash had sounded directly outside the shop. The pair broke away gently, staring out of the window at two figures, one worryingly familiar, but both outside the door, almost intentionally there despite the fact the shop had been closed for a good couple of hours.

He let go of her completely, frozen. A female and a male voice were talking, both raised, although it was still unclear of what was being said. With an unexplained lurch in his stomach George watched Luna Lovegood argue with the cold, unfriendly stranger. She hadn't even noticed them there but something inside of George ached and pushed him out into the cold street.

'What's going on here?' He stared from Luna to the man. Why was she with_ him_?

'Nothing,' they growled at the other in unison.

But tears were falling down Luna's cheeks and all George really wanted was to tak- No. That was what he wanted with Angelina, surely. She was only stood a little way behind him, staring at the scene.

'Are you sure Luna? You're crying.'

'She's ill, Mr Weasley. I'm here to take her home,' his cold eyes still lingered on Luna's bloodshot ones.

'I wasn't speaking to you.'

'I'm fine, George. Go back to your fiancée and let me handle mine.'

George stared as he heard Angelina's sharp intake of breath. How did she know they were engaged? And why in hell was she going to marry him?

'How did you know?'

'I notice these things,' she replied vaguely.

'Luna, we need to go home.' The man's voice was pleading.

'I won't go anywhere with you,' she hissed.

'Luna, baby, please. I'm sorry,' he fell onto his knees, overdosing on remorse, 'I promise I'll change for you. I promise.'

George stared, disgusted by his feeble attempts, which Luna somehow weakened to.

'We'll go home and we'll talk.'

'Are you sure, Luna? You guys can talk in the shop if you like.'

Angelina wouldn't like that, but the man with Luna seemed almost hurtful in ways. Emotionally, at the very least.

'No,' she smiled sadly, 'I've already interrupted you're evening with Angelina. Go enjoy it. Rolf and I will work things out away from the public eye.'

George leant closer, millions of things to say in his mind as he reached Luna's ear.

'What if he hurts you?'

It was barely a whisper, but she patted his cheek.

'I'm a big girl now. I can protect myself well enough.'

He nodded slightly, cheek feeling as though it was madly turning red. Rolf, or whatever his name was had put an arm around Luna, who growled and backed away, before turning to George.

'Thank-you George, for your concern. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight,' he replied, unable to say anything other as she apparated away at the very spot.

He stared at where the pair had disappeared until Angelina pulled him away.

'Go up to the flat,' she frowned, her eyes still occasionally averting to the spot too, 'I'll make you a coffee and be up in a minute.'

He nodded, too deep in thought to answer.

How did he really feel about Luna Lovegood?


	11. Chapter 11

Enjoy!

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><p>George clutched the side of his head, wincing slightly, as he sunk into a chair. His ear, or non-ear, had been aching madly for some reason he couldn't understand. Last time it had hurt that much was the day Fred had died, and ignoring it was certainly not good enough. Scowling slightly he looked at the clock. Angelina was late bringing him coffee for the first time ever. A smashing sound broke his chain of thought, and George registered the familiar cry of his name from the stockroom.<p>

Sighing, George climbed out of the chair and stumbled down towards the room, still half asleep. Angelina was meant to be making him coffee right now, like she always did. Without it, George was literally bitter towards her in the morning, but it was getting dangerously close to the time she insisted on him drinking it.

He trudged into the stockroom and saw her rummaging through a box, engagement ring sparkling on her finger. George had proposed only a couple of months ago, but wedding plans were well on the way.

'Yes?' He muttered, glaring at the broken glass on the floor.

Angelina looked back with a soppy smile and an expression of pity.

'Sorry, sweetie. I said I'd sell a friend some of your love potion... but I can't seem to find any.'

She lied smoothly, trying to smile, but her urgent face showed through as she hunted in the boxes.

'They should...'

George grabbed a box, pulling out the endless empty vials. Who purchased love potion without the bottles it came in?

'Where's my potion gone?' He glared at her.

Angelina looked to her watch and sighed. It was past the time she always made him coffee... Was the secret up?

'Just get me a damn potion,' Angelina frowned, shaking George. He wriggled away, looking her up and down. Where were those potions? Why di-

It was Luna's wedding day.

She was marrying some guy – Ralph, or Rolf – or something. But why did he care about Luna? He couldn't be with her because... because of the kiss Angelina had forced him into on Christmas years ago. As he stood and looked from her manic face to the empty love potion bottles and the coffee mugs that surrounded them, something slid into place in George's brain; something that fitted everything together like some kind of sick, twisted jigsaw.

The lack of love potion; George's attitude to Angelina before the coffee each morning; his unexplained love to her afterwards. And how he never seemed to care about Luna anymore.

He was rooted to the spot, gaping at her as he realised his sheer idiocy. She'd been using his own love potions against him, tricking him into loving her. _That _was the familiar taste all her drinks had. The taste that George and Fred had once invented.

It seemed to hit Angelina that George knew only seconds later, but the look on her face.

'George...' she grabbed his hand, 'you have to underst-'

'NO,' George screamed, jerking his hand away and snapping back into action, 'NO. I CAN'T UNDERSTAND. YOU'VE RUINED IT ALL. YOU COW, YOU BITCH,' everything around him fuzzed as anger took over. He'd gone long enough without the potion now to remember everything. 'ANYTHING ELSE YOU'RE HIDING? DID YOU SET UP LUNA AND THAT PRAT WHO SHE'S MARRYING RIGHT NOW?'

Angelina recoiled, trembling slightly.

'That letters...' she squeaked, thrusting several pieces of parchment in his chest, the rest falling on the floor, and running from the room. 'I DID THIS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, YOU KNOW.'

George couldn't bear to look at her without the urge to tear the woman apart. Hands shaking, he pulled open the letters addressed to him, all from Luna. Cheerful greetings from her holiday. She'd got his note and was asking why he wasn't replying to any of the letters anymore. Swallowing, he looked at the other set of letters, all unsent and all addressed to her. Angelina had stopped them from ever getting to each other.

Making a mental note never to trust Angelina Johnson again and to skin her alive when they next met, George shoved the letters in his back pocket and thought. Thought properly for the first time in ages: not under the influence of his own love potion. Where would Luna's wedding be? She'd never been religious. And she was lonely, so probably wouldn't have many guests. But that wasn't much to go on. Ginny has surely mentioned or given away something, but he was too busy in 'love' to have listened at the time.

Kicking a false wand across the floor, he grabbed Luna's final letter in his hand and apparated to anywhere. It was somewhere to start with.

'Fu-'

George looked around. Middle of nowhere, _really? _

Tearing his eyes from a startled sheep only meters away, he looked around desperately.

Laughter. The sound of laughter. And sheep couldn't laugh.

Legs ahead of his brain, George bolted across the damp grass, feet carrying him towards a small country church. A wedding was surely in session, but he couldn't tell whose wedding it was. He grabbed the nearest bunch of flowers, hands shaking as he searched for the label.

_Rolf Scamander & Luna Lovegood_

That was more than just luck...

Hearing nothing from inside the doors to the main church and realising they could already be swapping rings, George did the first thing instinct told him and ran at the heavy mahogany doors, pushing them open and sprinting into the room.

'Luna, you can't marry him!'

He sped down the aisle, oblivious to the hundreds of eyes and whispered comments. Luna was staring at him with full recognition and as he slowed down it occurred to George how long he'd gone without seeing Luna. She'd changed. Luna looked a lot older, tireder than ever. But not at all happier.

'Luna, you can't marry him,' he panted, avoiding Rolf's stony glare. All eyes were on them and his head was throbbing but George could only focus on Luna gaping at him.

'And why can't I, George?' She asked quietly, politely but bursting with curiosity and shock.

George opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but words literally tumbled out of his mouth.

'Because I love you. I have since I was 20, since before Fred's funeral. I was the one that looking after you that summer when it rained. I made you food and I bought your school books and the owl. I brought you the owl because you told me you wanted one. I looked after you because you took such good care of me and I wanted to take care of our. I wrote to you every say when you returned to Hogwarts but Angelina,' he spat the name, 'stole all my letters and tricked me into fancying her! The used my own love potion but she's stopped now and I found the letters and all of yours too. You have to believe me, Luna, because I would never, _ever _hurt you. I love you Luna and you love me, so don't ever marry this guy. You've not even been dating six months and you're marrying him! Everyone thinks he's a jerk and you deserve better. I can be better. Please.'

He breathed out deeply, trying to work out what he'd actually said. Luna was confused and panicked, and George felt he could explode any minute.

He was aware of Ginny mouthing at him from only a few feet away, but he kept his eyes on Luna.

'Why now?' Her voice was worryingly high, 'why have you chosen to tell me this now?'

George swallowed, what he'd actually done dawning on him slightly.

'I only just found out what she'd done to me,' he said quietly, feeling choked up.

Luna bit her lip and looked around the room. Her hands were still locked onto Rolf's awkwardly and he was looking as though he would murder George albeit the fact they were in a church.

'Luna, please,' he began.

'No!'

Her hands left Rolf's.

'What?'

George's voice cracked and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

'No,' she shook her head, 'I- I can't do this.' She looked at the two men, back and forth and guilt hit George again.

'Luna, don't,' Rolf warned her, but she'd shaken her head again, doing what George was half expecting. She turned on her heel and ran, dress and train streaming behind her.

People gaped and turned around, but nobody stopped her, or ran to help. Luna Lovegood; the girl who spent her life helping and never got any in return.

Ginny was glaring at George like mad, but nothing compared to Rolf. The priest shrunk away as the two men called after her: Rolf angry, George desperate.

'Luna? LUNA, PLEASE.'

A young woman stuck her head around the door and drew it back, shaking it.

'Gone.'

The words echoed through George's head and Rolf grabbed him by the collar, pulling George close to him.

'WHAT?' He spat, 'ARE YOU PLAYING AT?'

George coughed and Ginny made an involuntary movement, but words found George again.

'SHE DESERVES BETTER.'

Rolf licked his lips menacingly, letting go of George's collar to pull up the sleeves of his suit and George knew it was his cue. Not knowing or caring it there were muggles in the room he spun on the spot and apparated to the only place Luna knew as home, straight into the little kitchen.

'Luna? Are you- oh sh- Luna!'

He stammered, seeing her lying on the cold stone floor in tears. George threw himself down next to her.

'Luna, I'm an idiot and I'm so sorry but I had to. I love you and I couldn't let you marry him.'

Luna looked at him through teary eyes.

'What?' She said bitterly, sitting up, 'has Angelina done to you so bad that you had to ruin my wedding?'

'What do you mean?' George felt panicked.

'What has she done to you that means that I have to be your little nurse again and fix you back up again?'

Each and every word hit George like a knife plunged into his stomach. He didn't know Luna could be so cold. Fighting back the urge to scream that it wasn't his fault that Fred had died and he'd become like that, George ploughed forward.

'She stopped all my letters to you and slipped me my own love potions so that I wouldn't ever realise I loved you,' he explained, scared and hurt by her bitter tone and his own selfish attitude.

'Is that it?' Luna snorted.

'What do you mean 'is that it'? Of course that's it! I'm free to love you now like I should! Why aren't you happy about this?' Anger towards Rolf and Angelina bubbled inside him.

'Because I have Rolf's baby in my stomach! Because I've just given up on you and because I've just convinced myself that I was being selfish and that I could be happy without you!' Luna shouted.

George felt sick. It was true, surely, and he felt terrible, but he couldn't let go. Not until he was sure. And not even properly then.

'You still love me! I know you do, Ginny told me,' he said, 'I don't care if it is Rolf's baby. That doesn't stop me from loving you! Nothing can stop me from loving you anymore.'

The words sounded wrong the minute they'd left his mouth.

'I'm not going to let his baby grow up without one of his or her parents, George. It's not fair to the baby or to Rolf!'

George nodded, taking deep breaths. He didn't just want Luna, he needed her, but so did that baby and the selfish part of him didn't care for the baby.

'Luna, what can I do? Tell me what to do to make you happy. I can't lose you again.'

If he lost Luna now, George would have nothing. He took her hands, seeing the engagement ring on one finger.

'George, please don't do this to me.'

But she couldn't do it to him either. Any wrong move and the other would get seriously hurt.

He thought for a second, trying and failing to control his breathing again and everything seemed to fall on him.

'Then tell me you don't love me.'

'What?'

'If – if you tell me you don't love me and you mean it, I will leave you and Rolf alone to be together,' he trembled, trying not to scream or run or cry.

'I can't.'

Tears fell down Luna's cheeks.

'Then why won't you let me be with you? Don't you get it? We love each other so nothing else matters! Rolf can live with us if that's what is best for the baby, but for God's sake Luna, I need you. I love you. How many times do I have to say? All I want is for you to love me back...' he swallowed, wishing he could change the words again. He loved her and wanted her to be happy. And they both knew that couldn't happen with Rolf. He needed her to be happy, but this made him look extremely selfish in the process.

'I don't love you George,' she stared at the floor and the words hit him like knives again. He couldn't believe it, George refused to accept it, because it couldn't be happening, could it?

'You're lying,' he said bitterly.

'I'm not,' she insisted.

'Liar.'

George jumped to his feet, staring down at Luna's crumpled figure.

'Really? Why would I love a man who stopped me from eating and sleeping, a man who made me sick and cry and then crashed my wedding when I thought I'd finally found happiness? Why would I love a man like that George?' She practically spat the words.

It was too much for George. He was hurting too much and wondering how Luna ever did love him when he was like that.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. He'd lost Fred, ruined Luna, crashed her wedding and he was losing her again. He tried to speak, to tell he was sorry and pick her up and take her back to her wedding, if that would make her happy, but words failed him when he needed them most.

'I wish I'd never loved you,' George lied, choking and turning on the spot, the image of Luna's anger, her panic and tears imprinted in his brain forever.

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><p><strong>Pleeease review! It took me a lot of time to write and will only take you seconds to review, but it means so much to me. Keep reading Taylor's half too :)<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

It was over.

Luna didn't love him, he still had desperate feelings for her, but she was getting married to the cruel stranger he'd seen at the altar for the first time. His fiancée had been tricking him into loving and proposing to her with his own love potion and explaining his situation to anyone who could actually help would mean dragging them down with him, which wasn't happening.

Fred was gone, Luna didn't love him, Angelina loved him_ too_ much. It was for his family's sake that George didn't throw himself off a cliff there and then. But the bit of Fred that remained in him was urging him to pick his broken self off the ground and back up. And that was the part George listened to most.

George looked up, head throbbing and back painful as he lay, half-slumped against the door of the flat. Angelina had obviously cleared off, but still had the nerve to leave a letter, which he held, crumpled up in his hand.

_George,_

_I'm sorry, I really am. Have you never loved someone to the point you were crazy? That you couldn't not do something. – _She had a point there, George had thought bitterly – _Which is why I did this. It made you happy, at the time. Which was what I wanted, as well as love in returned. _

_We're still engaged now... Remember, nobody else knows any of this love potion business. Not my parents, or your parents. Or any of your siblings. They're already planning our wedding. If your mother ever finds out about this... _

_But, for once, George Weasley, you can't be selfish. Again. __**I**__ want to marry. Everyone else expects it. Break up the engagement if you want, but it's not what they want, or what Fred would. What would Fred say if he knew you were being this selfish? I may be your only chance, with you in that state... And I'm still letting you come back and be with me. I'm coming to see you sometime soon, because we still need to talk. And if you accept, we have a wedding to plan..._

_Ange_

_x_

But was it really what Fred would have wanted? The thing was, nothing like this had ever happened before and it was impossible to know how his twin would have reacted. Something was telling George not to think about it. One thing that was sure, he wasn't going to be able to go near or think about Luna anytime soon.

...

'So I told her,' grinned Lee, taking another swig of his drink and turning to George and Oliver, 'to get lost, the little bitch.'

Oliver Wood nodded, laughing quietly. George saw his eyes flying to the golden ring on the finger of his left hand. He'd married Alicia around the same time as Luna's wedding, only a few days later. George had excused himself from the wedding, somehow. However good the two friends of his were, he couldn't stand another wedding. Or seeing Angelina. It was a good few months later now and the two men had persuaded George into joining them for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, both saying he needed to become more sociable which would help with the shop. Oliver was barely touching his drink, staring, glazed over at the others as he tried not to focus on his ring or the image of Alicia waiting at home.

George's mind was also flitting away, the pair only staying to monitor Lee Jordan's increasingly drunken state. He barely ever travelled anywhere other than The Burrow, his shop and Fred's grave anymore. Even a pub at the end of Diagon Alley seemed exotic nowadays.

'I've gotta be off,' Oliver sighed eventually, unable to stand Lee's ranting or George's sullen mood any longer, 'I promised Alicia I'd be back quickly.' His Scottish accent was warm and he smiled at George apologetically before turning on the spot and disappearing.

'So, George,' Lee's grin was lopsided and his breath reeked of alcohol. Memories of Percy's accident and Luna and Fred came flooding back with the thought and George stared at the flames in one of the carefully carved fireplaces, squinting as just to see the orange light before his vision fuzzed.

Almost automatically, George shoved a galleon in the direction of whoever was looking after the bar, waved half heartedly at Lee and escaped into the street.

It was dark and crowded, but less crowded than in daytime. The glowing yellow streetlamps led the familiar but considerably long way back to the shop for George. He easily could have apparated, but mind on Fred and Luna, the thought hadn't even occurred.

'George...'

He stared, looking down and straight into the eyes of Luna. She stared up at him. Her voice was barely a whisper, but George was reminded of the last thing she'd told him and broke away, unable to look at her without fear of doing... Well, something that wouldn't end well.

George skirted round her, ploughing through the people and into the shop, half of him longing to spin round and take her in his arms at any second.

He dashed into the shop, standing at the counter with his back to the door. Maybe she wouldn't follow. Maybe she would. Which did he really want?

'George.'

She was still very quiet, but George froze. Feeling like he'd been punched several times in the stomach he gripped the counter just to keep himself up. His heart thumped in his head as customers shuffled out of the shop after seeing the scene, the bell tinkling gently each time someone left. Unable to think or hold himself together much longer George spun back round, once again face to face with Luna.

'Luna,' he blinked. Maybe he'd just imagined it all.

'George, I'm so sorry,' she began.

George was confused; every time they met he has something new to apologise for, but Luna never needed to. Not right now either.

'Lu- What?'

'I'm sorry for everything I've done to you. I was stupid and I was wrong and I- I...' she trailed off, sounding unable to continue.

He was even more confused now. Wasn't he the one supposed to be apologising like this?

'Luna, are you insane?' He lowered his voice, 'you've done nothing wrong.'

'Maybe I am,' Luna laughed bitterly and wiped her eyes, 'but I have to say sorry.'

George watched her. Arguing over her guilt would only upset her more, from the feel of things. Sighing, George shook his head, giving up.

'Where's Rolf – or whatever his name is?'

'Does it matter?' She said bitterly.

'You're married, Luna,' he said softly, surveying her. She must have some love for the man, having married him and getting pregnant with his baby. George frowned slightly, taking in her appearance.

'What did he do to you?'

'It doesn't feel as if we're married,' she bit her lip, diverting from the question.

'Luna?' George leaned closer.

Luna paused for a second, choked up.

'It was my fault.'

'Come upstairs,' he came around from the counter, glancing at Fred's portrait, which was polite enough to pretend to be sleeping.

'What about Angelina?'

'What about her?' George had to restrain himself from going mad at the mention.

'She doesn't like me. I don't think your fiancé will appreciate me being up there,' she said quietly.

'My fiancé can deal with that because I need to talk to you,' he took her small hand, which was still cold from the outside world.

'If you're sure.'

'Very,' he nodded. Angelina wouldn't dare come back.

He lead Luna through the shop, the stock room – which caused him to wince at the thought of the love potions – and up to the flat. It was a complete mess, as usual, but surely Luna would be fine with it. George pulled an armchair into the kitchen area and motioned for her to sit, searching the cupboards for mugs and milk and coffee. He half watched as she curled up in the chair, staring around.

'Luna, what's up?' He searched madly for a mug to make her drink.

'Nothing.'

'Give me one good reason why I should believe that,' he gave up on the drink and sat on the arm of her chair.

'I can't,' she muttered, eyes on the floor.

'Luna, you have to tell me what happened. Is it the baby?'

That child was the only reason Luna had married Rolf, from what it seemed. But at that moment Luna started sobbing and George knew he had been right. Sliding off the arm and onto the chair he pulled Luna onto his lap and held her close.

'I- I m-miscarried...' she cried into his shoulder.

Something hit George inside and his eyes fixated on Luna's shaking body; her tears and her stomach, where, until recently, a baby had been growing.

'Oh... Oh. Oh my god, Luna, I'm so sorry,' he pulled her closer, whispering.

She cried for a few minutes and George couldn't help think of when he had turned up, bloody and broken at her father's funeral. It was crazy, they needed each other, but the entire world seemed to want to pull them apart. He stroked her hair gently, tilting her head into view and sitting her up to dry her tears away with a thumb.

'How did Rolf take it?'

Luna wavered for a second, unsaid thoughts showing in her bloodshot eyes and George tried to remember Rolf and his behaviour at the wedding.

'Has he hurt you?'

'Not for a long time...' she said slowly.

'You mean he did before?' Anger rose up in George again. He wanted to track Rolf down to give him exactly what he deserved.

Luna nodded slowly and George's anger longed to burst out.

'Luna, you have to tell me what he did.'

Luna leant closer, brushing away a stray hair of George's and whispering in his ear. George almost gasped aloud as she whispered some of the things Rolf had done.

'You should have told me,' his teeth were gritted. If he got anywhere near Rolf, or Angelina, for that matter, they would wish they'd never got involved with his life, or Luna's.

'What would you have done?' She laughed desperately.

'Sorted him out,' George muttered angrily, 'why are you still with him, Luna?'

'It's too early to get a divorce. Not that he'd let me go.'

'Couldn't you just leave him?' She was practically letting herself get hurt, staying with the man, and it was hurting George.

'I'm too scared to...' She looked away.

'I'm so, so sorry, Luna,' he pulled her back, kissing her head and hugging her properly.

'So am I. I should have gone with you.'

It would have been a giant lie to say George hadn't thought about that all the time. But it wasn't exactly helped. There were days where he was just longing for Luna, but that was impossible. And life hadn't failed to prove that several times.

'Maybe not.' He played with her hair, 'I've hurt you enough.'

'No you haven't. I've hurt you and it's not fair.'

He was unsure why she said it. It was a lie, they both knew it.

'You've not,' he shook his head, 'but Luna, you know we can't be together.'

'I know, I know,' she sat up more and George vowed in his head not to get too close to her again. It would only hurt more when they had to break apart.

'Where is he now?'

'Probably out somewhere drinking,' she said, face tainted with disgust, 'he does that a lot. He'll probably not even come home tonight.'

George frowned. How had someone like Luna ended up with a hypocritical, drunken, abusive man who forced her to marry? He picked her up, standing and placing her back on the chair. She was still light as ever... Did she ever even eat?

'Stay here,' he said, plans forming in his mind.

'Where are you going?'

'Nowhere...' He tried to find an excuse, but his mind was blank.

'George?'

'I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. I want you to stay here tonight.' The words barely even formed in his head before leaving his mouth, but the idea worked.

'I don't think I can,' she glanced at her watch.

'Please, Luna?'

'No, I think I should go, just in case Rolf comes home,' she stood up.

'You're not going home, Luna,' he said darkly, out of protectiveness, not greed.

'But I have to. What if-?'

'No, Luna. I won't risk him hurting you again,' George's temper was becoming stronger and stronger and he could practically feel it churning up inside him, taking control over everything.

'I don't care! I don't care if he hurts me! There's no point in staying because _we can't be together_! You said so yourself! I have Rolf and you have Angelina!'

He felt sick even at the thought of Angelina. How exactly could Luna just forget that she'd practically been forcing him love potion for months and months. No wonder he'd been head over heels, stupidly in love. There were times where George had acted like nothing else mattered. Why did nobody see through the potion?

'I don't have Angelina,' he yelled, before becoming more quiet; it wasn't Luna's fault, after all, 'I broke it off because she used a love potion on me. The wedding invites were never meant to go out. I should have cancelled them but I'd just lost you and I-' He ran a hand through his hair. The stupid wedding was still on, from what everyone else saw. And the day was getting closer and closer.

Maybe he could do it. Not for _her_, not Angelina. But for Molly and Arthur, who had been so pleased and excited. For Percy, who was recovering faster to help George with the wedding. For Angelina's family, who were depending on him to take their daughter's hand in marriage. And for Fred, because it might make him better in the long term. Maybe it would stop him pining over Luna and he could move on a little. From the feel of things, he'd never be able to love Angelina, but he could play along, pretend. It wasn't hard anymore. And maybe, one day in the future, they'd settle down. Become friends. Have a family...

But then what about what George really wanted? Or was that not valid any more? Would turning Angelina down be a selfish, pointless deed that didn't even get him closer to Luna. Hate rose in George for Angelina, who'd messed up his feelings about everything to no end.

'Stupid bitch,' he muttered, too quiet for Luna's ears, 'How dare she ruin my life even more. How dare she ruin _our_ lives,' he barely noticed his voice becoming louder, almost a shout, 'And where are we now? Her and him, the stupid gits, have torn us apart and left us to pick up the pieces. How can people be so bloody selfish? The stupid, twisted, life ruining bitch.' He paced back and forth, Luna trying to say something as a meagre few of George's reel of thoughts escaped.

The next thing that happened was enough to shock George out of his rant. To shock him out of anything.

Luna appeared in his path, eyes alight but expression unreadable as she placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him gently. Every feeling of anger and hate flew from George's mind and he stared into her eyes, bewildered. And for just one second nothing else in the world really did matter.

'W-What was that for?'

He was scared, scared because it was exactly what he wanted. And exactly what he knew they couldn't have.

'I need to tell you something but I couldn't get your attention,' she said, stepping back.

'What was it?'

'I can't remember.'

George watched her for a second, trying to work out what was going on in her mind. Maybe he was wrong. He had to be, Luna didn't want him. That was clear... Or was it? She looked up, and it was George's turn for spontaneity, pressing his lips against hers again and sharing another kiss. Luna kissed back, her feel much gentler, much softer than Angelina's forceful ones. He needed her closer, picking her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling her small weight and her warm body as they became closer and closer...

George's grin faded, his breath rapid as he returned to reality. His shirt was scrumpled up, halfway across the room and Luna's back was against the wall. Things were getting out of hand...

'This is wrong,' he let Luna down and backed away, sick with guilt about what could happen if Rolf ever found out, 'You're married. This is wrong.'

'George, I'm sorry. It was my fault. I should have kissed you in the first place. I don't know what came over me,' Luna looked down, her robe and cardigan lying next to George's shirt, several of her blouse buttons undone.

He paced around again, pulling his hair. How had he been so stupid? It was insane, mad, out of control. Luna hurriedly buttoned her shirt, looking up at him.

'You're right. This is wrong. I should go.'

She walked to collect her cardigan, but a thought of Rolf jolted something in George, who grabbed her arm.

'Don't go. Don't go back to him.'

'George, can you even hear yourself right now?'

She looked down at his hand. Something gave George the impression Luna was never safe when around Rolf. So ill and thin she looked nowadays.

'Luna,_ please_,' he kissed her one last time, mentally scolding himself seconds later.

'How could I ever leave you again?' She hugged him tightly and George hugged back, smiling down at her.

And she smiled back. Smiled properly, like how she'd done what seemed like centuries ago. How she'd smiled surrounded by her friends at Hogwarts. A smiled leading from her mouth right into her eyes.

She kissed him again, George hesitating for a second before kissing back. It was time to let instinct take control...

...

George opened an eye, almost jumping at what he saw before memories of the previous night returned, a small smile spreading across his face. Luna was lying on top of him, the pair totally naked except for the baggy t-shirt of George's that Luna had adopted at some point.

He felt her body freeze as she awoke, groaning sleepily.

'You're awake,' he yawned, stretching.

'Yes, good morning,' she smiled and rolled off, unable to hide the glint of worry from her face, 'how long have you been up?'

'Oh, not long,' George smiled, snaking his arms around her, 'only a few minutes.'

'What time is it?'

'It's only 9-.'

Luna jumped out of bed, yelping and grabbing her clothes.

'Luna, what are you doing?'

'Rolf,' She squeaked.

'What?' He sat up, staring.

'He'll be home and if I don't go back I'll get into real trouble,' she attempted to pull on a pair of jeans.

'And he expects you to put up with him not going back?' George slipped out of bed, disgusted as he started searching through the mess on the floor.

'Yes,' she said bitterly, pulling off George's shirt and handing it to him. It was still warm from the night and George knew Luna might want a piece of him to hold onto.

'Keep it if you want,' he pushed it back, 'so long as he won't find it.'

'Really?' She said hopefully, taking it.

George nodded, smiling as Luna left the room to locate her remaining clothes.

He threw open the wardrobe, pulling on the first clothes he found, before joining Luna again.

'Merlin… I don't even know where you're living.'

'Rolf's moved into the Rook with me.'

'At least you're at home, though,' George replied, thinking that it could possibly be a small comfort, unless he ruined the place, 'Has he tried to change it at all?'

'No, not yet... He's not at home often enough to even try.'

'Well, don't let him.'

'I won't. The second we can get a divorce he'll be gone,' she smiled weakly and George wished he could help in some way.

Luna collected her bags and clothes in silence, George staring at a point on the wall, trying to figure out what was going through his head.

'What are we going to do about last night?' She asked the question he'd been dreading.

'We'll... We...' He was stumped. All this with Rolf meant nothing else could happen, not without a miracle. But they couldn't leave it at that.

He bent down and kissed her again, hoping that was a good enough answer.

'I'll be back later?'

He smirked and nodded.

'I'll be in the shop.'

'Don't worry, I'll find you,' Luna smiled, 'I'll see you soon then.'

She kissed him one last time before leaving the flat and apparating away to Rolf, George making a vow to climb out of the mess in his head once and for all, however long it took.


	13. Chapter 13

Hello, all you lovely people :3 You know the plea, please, please read and review. Takes a lot less effort than it did for this - and Taylor's half - to be written. Please also read and review her half, they go together, not stand alone. Thanks so much for support! :)

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><p>To say George had been waiting for Luna would be an understatement. Maybe waiting in the shop had been a bad idea.<p>

Not maybe. It definitely had. George had spent the entire morning waiting at the counter, staring out of the window, something which probably alarmed customers as he sold them pranks in a trance. As usual, Verity seemed to have noticed something was up, and it was only when she practically waved her hand in front of George's fact that he snapped out of the trance.

'George?'

But the thing was, where was Luna? Maybe the previous night had been a fling, something not important for her in the way it was for George. It was probably only George who wanted more than just that, but it had seemed so real – what they both felt. And wasn't Luna the one that suggested they met in the shop? The night played through George's head on loop. The romance, how he had felt. The guilt at what he was doing with a married woman, but how right it had felt at the same time.

'George!'

Surely she was just running late for whatever reason. Had to pick up groceries or something. But it was getting a lot later than he'd expected and George couldn't help but think of the worst case scenario. Maybe Rolf has been home for hours, waiting for his wife as the sky became darker and darker, unaware of the fact his wife was in the small flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, tearing the shirt off another man.

'GEORGE WEASLEY, FOR GOODNESS SAKE.'

Verity snapped her fingers in George's face impatiently and George was brought back down to Earth, her blonde hair dangling in his face.

'What is up with you today?' She frowned.

'I- I don't know,' he sighed, 'Sorry. I'll get back to work, it's not really fair on you,' he mumbled, trying to work out how long he'd actually been waiting for Luna.

'Later,' she replied, smiling slightly, 'your Mum's just arrived... She wanted to talk weddings...' Verity trailed off, almost whispering the final word.

So George hadn't exactly explained what had happened between him and Angelina , but the fact she was never around obviously explained enough. None of the other Weasleys knew about what had happened, except for Ginny, who'd been at Luna's wedding.

She hadn't exactly been happy with George, but, then again, nobody was. On the other hand, his actions were made slightly more justifiable by his emotional state, something which Ginny was smart enough to understand and talk through with George.

'Right,' he nodded, seeing Molly approach, a large patchwork bag on her shoulder.

'Why not just tell her?' Verity prompted, 'It's none of my business, but something's happened, obviously.'

'It's not really fair on her,' George admitted. He didn't have the heart to explain to Molly what had happened. Hadn't he given her enough trouble?

'Mum,' he smiled, climbing over the counter, forgetting about Luna for just a second or two, 'Just gotta explain something to Verity.'

He leant back over the counter, eyes flying to the window again.

'If Luna comes,' he muttered in her ear, 'send her up... Don't let her leave. Please. '

She nodded at the strange command, returning to work as George lead Molly through the shop, up the stairs and into the flat. She sat at the dining table, emptying her bag onto the table which was already covered in piles of paper. It probably gave away the fact that George still rarely ate but Molly only sighed quietly as she looked around the flat with an urge to clean or tidy something for her son.

'How are you doing?' She smiled.

'Alright,' he faked a smile, 'and you?'

For some reason, George noticed he was trying to buy time, maybe hoping Luna would turn up before he was forced to admit the truth about Angelina.

'I'm good. We've been visiting Percy. He's recovering well.'

'Glad to hear,' George replied, handing Molly a mug of tea and sitting opposite her, 'but why are you here?'

'Aah,' she smiled, a glint that George had rarely seen in her eyes, 'I needed to discuss wedding plans with you and Angelina,' she looked around the flat for any sign of the woman, 'but she doesn't seem to be around, obviously. I trust you can pass on the message?'

He nodded jerkily, watching as she took out a long checklist for the wedding, only a few things ticked off. If George hadn't wanted to tell her the truth before, he really didn't now. She'd been like this, except slightly less relaxed, about Bill and Fleur's wedding. And now, as all her children were starting to settle down in relationships – or so she thought – weddings were the next big thing in her life.

'What flowers do you think?'

George didn't even have to pretend to laugh.

'You're asking me about _flowers?'_

'Fair point,' Molly laughed, 'I'll speak to Angelina about that... We're meeting for coffee later this week. Shame you can't make it, really. But I suppose your big meeting is important, too.'

George nearly coughed up his tea. She was not only still going ahead with this and acting as though things were normal, but making up all these lies about him?

He gripped the table for support as a knock sounded at the door, urgent and the person knocking sounding as though they'd run a mile. Glad of the distraction, as Mrs Weasley seemed to have noticed George's expression change, he jumped up, flinging the door open to see Ginny, who threw her arms around him.

'Hey...' George smiled, hugging her back carefully.

'Luna- Mungo's- You,' she choked out as George pulled her in, unable to pick up the words as Molly passed her daughter a glass of water.

'I didn't get any of that,' he shook his head, watching Ginny turn from magenta to her normal self, 'what happened?'

Ginny threw a glance at Molly and made to lower her voice.

'Luna was... She's in Mungo's George... She wants to see you.'

George practically felt his face turn several shades paler as a shudder ran through his body.

How had he not seen this coming? He'd _begged_ her to stay. He'd brought her into it... She could've been killed by Rolf. He could've killed her. He HAD damaged her even more so than she'd ever been. And it was all because he was stupidly in love with her in a way that she'd never feel about him...

'George?'

Two hands were held out in front of him and there was a faint ache in George's lower back. From the feel of it, he'd half slumped into a chair, missed and fallen onto the floor in shock. But the image of Luna lying unconscious in a hospital bed, dressed in white was enough for him to take a hand and pull himself up.

'I've got to go see her. Now.'

'But... George, you and Luna...' Molly looked from Ginny to George in disbelief and realised she was obviously missing a lot.

'Yeah... I'll remind Angelina about the flowers,' he grimaced, pulling on odd shoes.

'Angelina?' Ginny looked up, 'after everything? You said you haven't spoken since Luna's wedding...'

'Of course they've spoken, dear,' their mother laughed nervously, 'they're engaged.'

'Yeah, because she tricked him into it...' Ginny scowled.

'What?'

'Yeah... Forgot to tell you,' George sighed, grabbing a jacket, 'Angelina used love potion on me for months on end and that's why I proposed to her in the first place. Once I discovered this I crashed Luna's wedding to tell her this. Things have gone downhill since...'

Molly looked as though she was about to faint, the mug of tea in her hand falling to the ground and nearly onto Ginny's feet.

'Get her another drink, she'll need it. And a memory charm, if we need...' he trailed off, running out of the still open door and apparating straight to St Mungo's.

'Luna, Luna Lo- Scamander,' he told the stroppy woman on the desk, 'small, blonde, has that constant look of needing a hug.'

The witch rolled her eyes, running a forest green nail down a long sheet of parchment.

'Are you Mr Scamander?' Her badly coloured hair bobbed slightly as she spoke.

'No,' George said in disgust, running a hand through his messy hair.

'Third Floor, Ward 7. It's at the end of the corridor,' her voice was dull, the kind that could send someone to sleep in seconds.

'Thanks,' he muttered, looking at the nearest flight of stairs and sprinting up.

George winced as he entered the surgically white room, eyes temporarily blinded by its brightness. Luna was sat up in the end bed, staring at her arm as George ran over, panting and looking like a mess.

'Hello George,' she attempted a smile at him before looking to her arm.

'What happened?' He was still in shock, blended with guilt.

'Nothing serious,' she replied, sounding robotic in her answer. George knew from how Ginny's tone had been that it was a lie and that scared him more.

'It was him, wasn't it?' He perched on the end of her bed and kissed her soft hair, one of the only parts of her that didn't seem to have been damaged.

She bit her lip, staring at her hands and George's worst fears were confirmed. How had he been so stupid? Again?

'Look at me, Luna,' he pushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

She turned to look at him slowly, bruises and scratches on her face looking worse under the bright white light of the room, and the sinking feeling in George seemed to gain a ton of weight.

'Oh shit...' He stared in disbelief, wanting to throw his arms around her and hold her close and tell her she was safe and it would only get better. But that would be lying.

She turned her head back, burying her face under the straggly blonde hair and George knew he couldn't sit there doing nothing.

'Luna, I'm so sorry,' he said softly.

'It's not your fault,' she whispered in reply.

'Kinda is, though,' he admitted.

'No it's not,' she shook her head, apparently refusing to believe the truth.

She pulled up her knees, hugging them as George felt a small ache in his heart. Why did he never, ever think about what the consequences of things would be?

'Where is he now?' George sighed, feeling more helpless than ever.

'I don't know. I don't remember what happened between him b- beating me and ending up here.'

George winced again, combing her hair with his fingers.

'He's living in my house,' her voice shook.

The anger started building in George again. Even if he was the reason this had happened to Luna, he hadn't actually done it. He wanted to apparate to the Rook and do to Rolf what he'd done to Luna. Do worse. Show him how much he'd harmed her, not sit in a hospital room failing to help.

'Luna... You have to get away from him.'

'I know,' she trembled.

'I can try and help get you out,' he sighed again, staring at his odd shoes. Why didn't he _do _something?

'Just because we slept together doesn't mean that suddenly you need to feel responsible for me. I can handle myself,' she said harshly.

Something clicked inside George and he knew Luna couldn't possibly feel how he felt about her... He did feel responsible for her. But it wasn't because they'd slept together...

'I just- I meant-' He began, feeling hurt, 'Okay... I just don't want him hurting you again.' There was no point in arguing.

Luna climbed out of the bed and mover over to the small window at the end of the room, gazing out into the street. He knew she was angry... And he hated being the cause more than anything, but he couldn't tell Luna how he really felt.

'The healers think I'm mad,' she said out of the blue.

'Why?' He looked up to her back.

'I didn't tell them what happened to me and I begged Ginny not to either. They think I did this to myself,' she responded, 'I heard them discussing putting me upstairs.'

George bit his lip. There had once been a short time, after Fred's death, where members of the Weasley family had considered the same, for emotional reasons. George had managed to put a stop to it, threatening to do worse, but the idea still scared him, whether or not it was Luna upstairs or him.

'Couldn't you at least include a little truth?'

'If I do go up there I hope I get put in the ward with Mr and Mrs Longbottom.' She pretended not to hear.

'That's the long term ward Luna,' he replied, trying not to think about how he'd react if she was put in a long term ward.

'True but they're so nice.'

George climbed off the bed and moved closer as Luna paused for a few seconds, apparently deep in thought.

'You can visit them, though,' he nodded, thinking about the Christmas where he'd visited his father after a snake attack.

'There aren't very many nice people left in the world, are there?'

For the first time in a long while, the Luna that George had seen briefly at Hogwarts was returning, showing through for a time.

'Maybe... You are,' he pointed out, 'you just have to find the others.'

'You're a nice person,' she said thoughtfully.

'Really?'

'I think so.'

George snorted quietly in disbelief, confused how Luna still thought that, even if she was a little unsure.

'You're more than nice, especially for saying that,' he said truthfully, 'But where I come from, I'm fairly sure I'm a depressed, clingy, wedding crashing git.'

Luna laughed, and George knew he should have been hurt. After all, the things were true, even if he was ashamed of them, but he couldn't help feeling a little pang of pride. He'd only ever heard her laugh once before, and that was for thanking her.

'Luna?' He asked quietly.

'Yes?' Her tone sounded lighter, more open with him than she'd been before.

'Did I just make you laugh?'

She nodded, turning around to face him and smiling, properly, her eyes lighting up and making her face look a lot happier, despite all the damage Rolf had done.

'Woah,' he smiled at her, 'I'd forgotten what that felt like.'

He hadn't really made anyone laugh in... Years. Not without Fred. He'd made customers in the shop laugh, but that was different. He didn't know them like he knew his friends or family or Luna.

Luna stepped forwards, wrapping her arms around George and hugging him. He smiled down at her head and wrapped his arms around her, hugging back; something which was not too easy with their large height difference.

'What happens now?' She whispered.

George thought for a second, trying to come up with something rational that wouldn't end up in more hurt, but his brain seemed to have given up on anything like that years and years ago.

'I hate this part,' he admitted.

'Why?' She looked up at him, eyes widened in fear.

'Because I have to think, have to let go,' he looked into her eyes, feeling sick as he forced the words out of his mouth, 'Luna, I don't think I can see you anymore.'

Luna shook and backed away, looking up at George with an expression of hurt and disbelief and shock and George just knew he'd said the wrong thing. It wasn't what either of them really, truly wanted. George only wanted her to stay away so she wouldn't get more hurt by her freak of a husband.

'What would happen to you if he found out?' He said, _you could have died, _he wanted to add.

'I don't care,' she said weakly.

'I do. The only way you can see me without a chance of getting hurt is in public, or in the shop and even then, it's too risky,' he frowned, trying to form plans and getting nothing. He couldn't deny that Rolf could be smart and could use a lot to his advantage.

'Then I'll leave him. Properly,' she said, a tone of finality in her voice.

George felt something strange inside of him... Something good, but not something he was used to... Hope? Was that hope?

'You really will?'

She nodded and smiled and George allowed a grin to spread itself across his face, pulling Luna's small body into his arms and kissing her. But, caught up in the moment, George realised he must have pulled a little too tightly, as Luna, still extremely fragile, winced. He pulled back, looking her up and down.

'Where does it hurt?'

'Everywhere,' she confessed, swaying slightly, her body proving its point.

George bit his lip and scooped her up carefully, holding her gently as he had the time he'd found her, broken, in a field by The Burrow what seemed like centuries ago. He looked down at her chest to see a familiar blue shirt.

'They let you keep my shirt,' he noted, smiling slightly.

'They did,' she smiled in response, lying back limply on the bed and keeping her eyes closed.

Footsteps without a face approached the door and a quiet voice spoke up nervously.

'Am I interrupting something?'

George looked up, seeing the nervous healer who had led the Weasleys to visit Percy several times when he was ill. George looked at Luna, unsure of what to answer, but she had already done so.

'No.'

'Ms Lovegoo- Scamander, Healer Benson has requested that we put you upstairs for mental observation,' he mumbled, looking almost longingly at Luna before nervously at George. For some reason, that healer kept cropping up in St Mungo's more than any other. Surely it was coincidental, but it aroused natural curiosity in George.

'Luna's not crazy,' he snarled, more angry at the Benson guy than the young healer. The hospital's proposal to move Luna to a ward for crazy people was, to put it ironically, crazy. Maybe Luna's behaviour from anyone else would need to put them in the ward, but from Luna it was natural, talking about Wrackspurts and all. In fact, it would be more worrying if she didn't act like that for a while. But he didn't really have energy to point this out to the young healer.

'I know, I know. If you take Ms Love- Scamander out of the hospital now then they won't pursue her,' he responded.

George toyed with the idea, thinking about how ill Luna actually looked. Could he take care of her in that state? She'd managed to for him, but that thought alone was nowhere near satisfying enough to think he could do the same for her.

'But doesn't she still need healer assistance?'

'No, she's all good to go,' the man shook his head.

'Then we're leaving. Luna, where's your stuff?' George glanced up at the healer, who seemed to take his expression – whatever it actually was - as a cue to leave.

She blinked and watched him exit before frowning slightly.

'I don't have anything.'

'Even better,' George mumbled. It would be easier getting out that way. And faster.

'Do you need me to carry you to the apparation point?' He asked.

She paused for a moment, before shaking her head.

'I might need your support but I can manage,' she sat up, seeming to gain a new strength with something that someone must have said.

He looked at her scratched cheeks. They didn't show magical damage. Human damage, more like. Surely she could have fought Rolf back? Not with her bare hands, maybe, but with magic. The thought triggered something in George and he spoke up.

'What about your wand?'

The pair both looked around madly for a second before Luna located her wand on the bedside table, pushing it behind her ear so most of it hid in her long, messy hair.

'Here,' she sighed with relief.

George nodded and got up off the bed, glad to be getting out of the hospital. Not that anyone needed to know, but whenever in Mungo's, his gut instinct was to get out and he was constantly having to fight it. He took let Luna take his arm and helped her off the clinically white bed as she wobbled slightly.

He tried to move faster, finally aware of how uneasy the place was making him, but trying not to hurt or overtire Luna any more.

She looked in pain, George couldn't pretend he wasn't seeing that as the pair moved quickly down a corridor, everything else blurring slightly at the speed they were going, but he seemed unable to move any slower. She looked deep in thought whilst her face was screwed up with force of trying to move after that much damaged had been caused to her.

George couldn't help but once again wonder where they were as they moved through the maze of a building. They'd slept together, but whatever George felt obviously wasn't how Luna felt. He needed to stop messing her around, anyway, she was married, even if it was to a prat who she'd be leaving. He couldn't take advantage of her emotional state as Angelina had done to him. He just wanted to get her out of the hospital, out of harm, make her better and see what they both wanted from there. But when did plans like that ever work?

The paths became more familiar and George was starting to recognise things near the entrance when Luna caught her foot against the leg of a chair, flying forwards and almost smashing her face into the floor. George shot his arms out and caught her, lifting her into his arms and holding her close. The no more hurt started there and then.

'I won't ever let you fall again,' he made sure she was safe as she snuggled into him and closed her eyes as George walked through, passing more people, a lot of whom stopped and stared for a moment.

'We're almost there. Just need to apparate,' he nodded, reaching the apparation point finally, arms tired despite the fact Luna really wasn't heavy to carry. Not even heavier than some of the boxes he'd hauled round the shop from time to time.

She nodded mutely, eyes still closed.

'Are you okay?' He came to a halt, trying to ignore the possibility of Rolf walking into the hospital for whatever reason and murdering Luna.

She shook her head, but the hospital was getting to George too much by now and before he knew it he was spinning on the spot and for a second he couldn't breathe before returning to the familiar flat.

But something wasn't right, because Luna was screaming and there was blood trickling down her leg and something had clicked inside of her and she was crying harder and louder than he'd ever known she could do and George felt sick with guilt when it dawned on him that he'd splinched her.

'Luna! Luna stop it! You just splinched!' He yelled, but she didn't hear and his heart was beating faster, feeling torn as he dropped to his knees. How she'd coped with him in those states was amazing, and it was the only thing he had to go by, he realised, cradling Luna and holding onto her constantly thrashing body tightly, whispering in her ear, trying to talk her into a state of calm or even just sleep with the first words that came to him.

It was only a few minutes before her screaming changed to sobbing and whimpering, she sounded tired and weak and George felt achy in places he'd accidently been kicked by her, but he stayed, sat on the living room carpet, whispering words into Luna Scamander's ear whilst she became limp and finally fell asleep, safe, for once, in George's arms.


End file.
